The Five Different Lovers: Prelude
by cubierock11
Summary: This fan fiction is inspired by DBSK and showcases them as five different lovers. Each boy will face trials of love, friendship, family, and work, and how each of them deal with their problems is the key to the story.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: The Group Consisting of the Leader, the Mother, the Free Spirit, the Innocent Boy, and the Hidden Devil**

Because they were best friends from the beginning of their lives, it was natural for the five of them to be living together in one large house with six bedrooms, six washrooms, three entertainment rooms, a swimming pool, a tennis court, and a spacious garden. They were quite well-off as they were fortunately born in prestigious families. They had, however, quite different personalities—each being unique in his way. Consequently, they had various stories of love. Each started their love life at separate points of their lives. The last to experience true love was the Leader, even losing to the Innocent Boy.

Now, he suffered from an epiphany.

"That damn kid," he muttered, pointing at the Innocent Boy.

That was when he realized that sometimes, even leaders, lose.

The first to be loved was none other than the Free Spirit. He was the one that could woo the girls successfully even in elementary school. His truthful words mesmerized their hearts. He, however, had a hard time settling down. It was too easy for him to fall in love over and over again. He adored that feeling, perhaps too much. Although he was the clear winner, he was also the biggest loser in this game of love. Never did he ever feel complete; there was always this empty sensation, making him insatiable for anyone who had a beautiful face, along with a toned body. Of course, these came with an extraordinary price tag and he would argue by saying, "I can't help it. If I love her, then I love her."

The man winning second place was the Mom. The Mom was adept at cooking, sewing, and anything related to housework. He was also the one that kept the household in place, resolving all problems and sometimes even creating issues. He was too blunt at times, but all of them understood that he only had good intentions. He was, after all, the Mom. Being a fan of cute accessories and fashion, he made sure that he was up to date with everything for he needed to be the forerunner of individuality. That meant that he had trouble finding the ideal quirky woman with pretty hands.

Then, there was the Hidden Devil, who was able to deceive people because of his face. Everyone believed he was the angel, yet sooner or later, his true nature would be revealed. Particularly infamous for his sharp tongue, he was skilled at hurting people with his words intertwined with sarcasm. In front of the ladies though, he was a magnet that attracted all those that loved the quiet, mysterious type. He had few words to share, but when he did, they either hurt or were too profound to be understood. As he liked to say, "Chicks dig that and my face. Now, call me hyung."

Fourth place was awarded to the Innocent Boy. He resembled a child, even at heart. He accepted everything and loved to joke around. He was the one that could ease the whole group whenever tension arose and he could do all that with a sentence. Actually, anything he did was considered to be amusing or humorous. He wasn't all fun and games though. What he loved to do was to compete. He excelled in practically everything, except for studying. His grades were always the poorest of the bunch, no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't that he had a lower IQ; his brain wasn't geared for marks. It was for social purposes, for music, and for sports. Everyone in the group, though, believed that Innocent Boy would be the last to have a steady girlfriend. He was the first to actually settle down for all he needed was for the girl to have a good heart.

The slowest of the group was the Leader. It was ironic how he would be the greatest loser. He wasn't considered to be a perfectionist, so it shouldn't have been hard for him to find the one. The problem was that he just had trouble falling in love. He was a great observer; he knew the ways to deal with various people without them knowing that he was bored or frustrated with their behaviour. Practically, everyone loved him, but that was because he only presented himself to please others. Only the other four of them knew what the Leader was actually like. There was a dorky inner self disguised within himself and he could only reveal his true personality to his family and the other four. Consequently, the ladies loved his outer image, which forced him to discard his other half. That was also precisely why he could not find the one for him. The females that he attracted were the opposite of what he was attracted to. Actually, he had no idea the qualities he wanted. His best friends just suggested him several of which he ended up ignoring since he fell in love with a particular actress. No one could match with her, sadly.

To the five of them, though, the most important thing in their lives was their friendship. They would always be friends, regardless of how different they were. They were five different lovers and above all, they were five best friends, who always kept faith.

(Author's note: Although I had originally posted this on soompi, I was encouraged by my friend to share this story on for a broader audience. Please leave comments and I hope you enjoy the story.)


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One: Innocent Boy has found his Innocent Girl.**

The worst day of Yunho's life was when he realized that he had lost to his best friends in the game of love. Now, Jung Yunho was second oldest boy in the house, being 25 years old, and so he believed that he would never lose due to his age. He was, however, proved to be utterly wrong for even his immature best friend had a girlfriend. He was the only one left single . . . No, he was the only one that had remained relatively single for 25 years and was still at that stage. He never had a proper girlfriend, only shabby dates.

His eyes literally popped out when Junsu announced proudly, "Guys, I have a girlfriend."

Jaejoong, the eldest, dropped his favourite frying pan onto the ground. Thankfully, he had not been cooking, yet, at that time. On the other hand, Yoochun had broken a string off of his new guitar. Changmin had thrown away the large chocolate chip cookie that was about to be devoured by his jaws. That cookie landed fatefully smack right into Yunho's face. Yunho had been, unfortunately, sitting straight across from Changmin. It was already excruciating enough to be hearing this announcement and now he was hit by a hard cookie when his pride was already eternally damaged. What a wonderful way to start the morning.

Immediately, Yunho jumped forward to strangle Changmin's neck. Changmin, instinctively, pushed his chair backwards and ran away. "That damn kid," Yunho grumbled angrily as his fingers scrunched into claws. Then, he turned his head to find Junsu, looking at him with doe-like eyes. Yunho quickly shot Junsu an evil look. It was all Junsu's fault, everything.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Junsu walked forward and patted Yunho's back.

"Argh!" Yunho barked. "Don't touch me! Guys aren't supposed to be touchy!"

"Why?" Junsu asked inquisitively and tilted his head sideways. "I thought you liked skinship?"

Jaejoong explained, "He's just jealous that you have a girlfriend and he just sounded like Changmin."

"Hey!" Changmin roared. "It's not my fault that I think skinship among guys is weird!"

"Anyhow, we're just shocked," Yoochun interjected as he tried to fix his guitar.

"Well," Junsu gave Yunho a small hug. "You'll get your chance at love again."

Yunho pushed Junsu away. "I'm going out for a jog," Yunho declared loudly. "No one dare call me. I don't even know where my phone is. Damn it!" Then, he marched off to the front door. When he left, he slammed the door with as much force as he could possibly exert.

"Dude," Changmin called out, after confirming that Yunho was gone for sure. "What's up with him?" He walked behind Yoochun to spy at his work. Changmin had a habit of wanting to figure out what everyone did.

"Don't ask me," Yoochun replied. "I was out partying it up with Rena."

"Who's Rena?" Junsu curiously demanded.

"A girl," Yoochun answered nonchalantly.

Jaejoong rolled his eyes. "His new girlfriend for like two days," he joked.

"So, what's up with Yunho?" Changmin asked again.

Jaejoong put his hands to his hips and sighed, "It's probably his moobs. They're bothering him again."

"Moobs are sexy. They can be camouflaged as boobs," Changmin sang a cheerful lullaby.

Disgusted by Changmin, Jaejoong butted in, "We're not here to listen to your fantasies! You know, I don't get what people, girls especially, see in you, but then again, the ones that you attract turn out to be downright bimbos."

"OOooh, Burn!" Yoochun chuckled as his eyes almost popped out, making him seem almost hamster-like.

Junsu gave Jaejoong a high-five and cheered, "Good one, Youngwoong!" Jaejoong only smirked as he continued to cook, while Changmin just rolled his eyes. He couldn't make his rebuttal for Jaejoong was cooking for all of them. Changmin didn't want to go through the day with an empty stomach; he especially hated it when his stomach went sore from starvation.

Before Jaejoong could make another joke, Yoochun quickly asked Junsu, "So, when do we get to meet this special lady?"

Instantly, Junsu clapped his hands and giggled, "Soon!"

"Why not now?" Jaejoong questioned. He placed the eggs onto the plates now and proceeded to turn around to land the plates onto the granite breakfast table.

"She's shy," Junsu answered in a slightly disappointed tone.

"I thought you liked outgoing ones," Changmin noted while shuffling rapidly to receive his plate of food. He was about to devour the eggs by sliding them from the plate to his throat, but before he could do that, Jaejoong handed him a fork and a knife and also gave him a glare.

Junsu sighed, "She's shy at first, but once she knows you, she'll open up. She's quite bubbly in fact and I'm afraid . . ."

Yoochun interrupted, "What?"

Before Junsu could say anything more, Jaejoong hastily reminded, "Yoochun, eat some breakfast! You can worry about your guitar later! Stomach comes first!"

"F-fine," he grumbled and marched to his plate. Once he sat down, he repeated his question, "So, you're afraid of what?"

Junsu continued, "I'm afraid that you guys will scare her." There was a minute of silence. The three other boys were having trouble processing that thought in their minds. They all believed that they were the most friendly and approachable bunch. Junsu had expected them to be utterly puzzled with his statement, but it was true. They were frightening to the public. Sure, they were kind, yet Junsu had always recognized that when all five of them strolled as a group down a street, people always made way for them. It was partly due to the size of their group, but that wasn't the main part. They were just unapproachable once they bonded to make a group of five. That was not all though. It was difficult for the five of them to accept any other person into their clique. One person was bound to hate the new friend in some sense.

"So," Changmin questioned. "What makes us so scary?"

"Yes!" Jaejoong shrieked. "How can we be scary? I mean that's impossible right?"

"Right!" Yoochun hollered and forked the yolk of the egg.

Junsu took a deep breath and blurted as fast as he could, "Once she gets to know you, she'll be scared. Jaejoong, you're too blunt. Changmin, you're way too sarcastic. Yoochun, you're too flirty and Yunho . . . He seems nice at first, but he's a weirdo himself."

"But, your girlfriend has to love us!" Jaejoong argued. "If she doesn't love us, I'm going to break you guys up!"

Junsu sighed. This was why he didn't want to reveal his girlfriend to them, yet he couldn't seem to keep the happiness to himself.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two: The Leader Finds Himself on the Path of Doom and the Free Spirit Finds Himself on the Path of Boredom.**

His cellphone kept ringing in his pocket, but he ignored it. Well, that would have happened, if he actually knew that it was ringing. It wasn't until a man in his forties tapped Yunho on the shoulder and pointed to his noisy cellphone did Yunho realize how silly he was. Already in a foul mood and now slightly embarrassed, he immediately shouted into his black cell, "Yeah! I thought I told you guys NOT to call!"

"Yunho?" a warm voice asked gently.

Shit, shit, shit, he cursed in his mind. "Sorry, umma," he bashfully apologized. "I thought it was umm some stalker." It was a white lie that he had to fabricate. It seemed stupid and he knew, but his mother would always believe him. He rarely lied; he didn't really need to anyhow since Jaejoong always killed his harmless lies.

"Stalker?" his mother shuddered. "Are you alright sweetie?"

He cringed at the word, sweetie. He didn't like it when people called him that. It made him seem like a baby, which was an image that he wanted to throw away. Everyone always thought he was a child at heart; sometimes, he was even worse than Junsu. Junsu was already the minimal standard of a child, but he had a cute face. Thus, Junsu could get away with anything. "Yeah," he managed to croak out.

"That's good," she breathed a sigh of relief. "Anyhow, I called because I think it's time that you got yourself a steady girlfriend. I haven't seen you bring home a girl yet and I'm getting worried. You're already 25, so I found a girl for you. She's—"

"Umma, I don't need you to find someone for me. I can do this myself," he explained as he walked towards his black Audi. He only needed that actress to come alive. Yes, that was all he required.

She uttered, "Just give her a chance. She's only 17 right now—"

"I don't want to be a pedo . . . I mean, I don't want to date someone that's younger than my own sister," he quickly corrected his statement.

"She's very mature!" his mother argued. "She's from Seoul too. You know, Mr. Lee, the school principal?"

"Yeah?" he shrugged.

"She's his niece. She is very smart, except . . ." she gulped.

Yunho sighed, "What is it?"

"She looks very young and she's small. She's not the tallest person in the world," she uttered nervously. She knew that Yunho didn't really feel comfortable with dating shorter girls, but she had a feeling that the girl was the one for him.

Yunho couldn't believe it. He was actually going to be thought as a pedophile if he agreed to this. He could just picture Changmin thinking of this idea in the wrong way with Jaejoong chanting an incantation about pedophiles. Yoochun would just smile foolishly without uttering a word, but of course, he would know what Yoochun was thinking. Yoochun's face told everything to everyone. There was only Junsu, who would be somewhat supportive. Junsu was the positive one, after all. He took a while to formulate all of the consequences and then, he finally answered solemnly, "Umma, do I have to?"

"Your appa and I believe that you should," she informed without any hesitation.

If Yunho's father had agreed to this then the girl should be fine. It was hard to please his father, and so he reluctantly answered, "Fine, I'll have a date with her."

"Good!" she laughed. "You'll meet her this Saturday afternoon at your favourite coffee shop!"

As he stepped into his car, he prayed that the girl would resemble his favourite actress, at least in personality.

Yoochun had no idea why he felt like doing nothing. He could have spent the night at the bar or the clubs as usual, yet this night, he just wanted to roll around on his bed while he put his mind to rest. As usual, whenever he wanted to stay at home, Jaejoong was out drinking. The two of them never clicked in that sense; whenever Jaejoong was energetic, Yoochun was barely conscious or vice versa. That was probably the worst part of their friendship.

There was also no one else to talk to this night. Yunho was probably out with his other friends, which all of the boys disregarded. Seriously, none of them treated Yunho that well, but Yunho still enjoyed being with them. He also loved treating them to lunches, dinners, breakfasts, or any type of food-related event even though he was quite petty to himself and to the four boys. Thus, the boys settled on the idea that Yunho just preferred leading and loved to give donations to the poor. Then, there was Changmin, who was most likely with Jaejoong. The two of them had suddenly developed an interest in drinking together. Changmin was supposed to be the lone wolf, but now he preferred some company. Finally, Junsu, usually too immersed in online gaming, was on a date with his first girlfriend. Yoochun was actually hoping to be dragged by Junsu to play some games.

Perhaps, Yoochun was always caught at the wrong time. He remembered when he found Changmin slyly watching the silhouette of a lady bathing by using a pair of binoculars. Changmin, feeling rather guilty, decided to tell Yoochun the time that the lady usually appeared as a means of bribing Yoochun to zip his mouth. Yoochun, of course, agreed and so the next day he, awfully curious, decided to imitate Changmin's actions. That day, it was a man showering. Then, there was that time when Junsu was too tempted to watch Yoochun's complete first season of Naruto and so, Junsu "borrowed" them. In the end, Junsu managed to scratch the discs so badly that Yoochun could not watch them anymore. There was also that disastrous moment when Yoochun spilt soysauce all over Jaejoong's prized t-shirt just as Jaejoong passed the soysauce to him while asking, "Shoyukouto?" All Yoochun could answer at that time was "Douyukouto." The worst part, which happened quite often, was when his girlfriends fell in love with Yunho. It was all because Yunho enjoyed acting as a gentleman to strangers. He knew that Yunho never had any intention of seducing his lady, but Yunho usually managed to capture their hearts with his suaveness, which all of the boys knew was a lie. Yunho was probably the least debonair man on earth. What sort of man would squeal during a horror film? Oops, Yoochun and Yunho did.

Completely submerging himself into boredom, Yoochun could only come to the conclusion that he had no purpose in life. Looking back, he hadn't done anything extraordinary. Sure, he had wooed several women since he just had that "feeling" with them and yes, he had written songs, but all those were done during the spur of the moment. His songs were not profound. They were unlike Jaejoong's spontaneously induced ones that turned out to be full of interpretation.

Perchance, the problem was that he had no idea what he wanted in his life. Money was not a problem. His family was on the higher end of middle class and he had a steady job as a songwriter in one of the top entertainment companies. Relationships were easy to acquire and easy to dissipate. Friendships were simple, except the one that he shared with those four boys. Most of the time, people just drank with him.

Rolling over and over again on his bed, Yoochun came to the conclusion that there was no need to think anymore. He felt relieved in some sense that greed had not consumed him yet and that was all because he had no idea what he wanted. He was certain though that for now, he was going to enjoy his dullness. He loved taking risks even when it meant that he was doing nothing.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three: The Mom Becomes a Babysitter and the Hidden Devil Lives in his Kingdom of Worshippers**

There was a well-known legend that circulated in the entertainment industry: if Jaejoong were your stylist and make-up artist, you would definitely become famous. This applied to everyone, male or female. The only obstacle that people faced was convincing Jaejoong to work for them. He had one simple, yet demanding request: whoever he helped needed to be beautiful. For Jaejoong, beauty was truly in the eye of the beholder. An eccentric man like him always had the right judgment towards beauty, but that beauty needed to be unearthed.

The only exception to his rule was Yoomi.

She did not have luscious hair that could entice any viewer. She did not have large, doe-like eyes that could capture the attention of an impatient male suitor. She did not have skin that resembled Snow White, except she was blessed with healthy-looking, lightly tanned skin. She did not have any moles that could be regarded as beauty moles; they were simply flat freckles that were dispersed sporadically. She did not have soft lips or smooth hands. The only trait that made her noticeable was her high-bridged, pointed nose. Other than that, she could have been renamed as Plain Jane. At least that rhymed, Jaejoong thought.

How the two of them first met was purely coincidental. Jaejoong had been drinking with Yoochun that day and just as he asked for a drink, the lady to his right, vomited on his shirt. Actually, it was normal for anything to land on Jaejoong's shirt and it was never his fault. It was always someone's doing. That might be why he loved the colour black; anything that plummeted onto a black background could eventually be camouflaged. Plus, it was slimming.

Already, he had harbored a deep hatred for the lady. He remembered every single detail about her, from her approximate weight to her dimple that rested to the left side of her lower lip. He remembered telling Yoochun that if he were to see the woman again, he would torture her, literally. While describing all the methods of pain Jaejoong would inflict on her, Yoochun stared dumbfoundly at his glass of wine, thinking that he was fortunate that Jaejoong didn't hate him. Who knew a male's abhorrence could become as wicked as the green-eyed monster, jealousy?

Now, Jaejoong strolled into his studio happily for he would be able to see and critique Junsu's girlfriend soon. He was even whistling his new tune called teasing is fun. However, his jaw immediately fell open when he saw the woman standing beside his assistant, who greeted him too joyfully, "Ah, Jaejoong, you're early for once! I'd like to introduce you to—"

"YOU!" Jaejoong hollered and pointed his finger at the culprit. "You . . ." He had a plethora of words associated with disgust, yet he managed to stop himself from blurting them all out by almost hyperventilating.

The woman furrowed her eyebrows, "You know . . . me?"

"Oh!" he scoffed angrily as he clinched his fists in fury. He couldn't believe it. This lady could forget about everything that happened at the club. Vomit flew from her fat mouth and onto his most prized suit. Even if she suffered from memory loss, he would never forgive her. She never apologized in the first place. All she did was vomit more on him even after he had furiously shouted a "hey". He already considered her lucky that he hadn't thrown a punch at her. Actually he should have. Men and women were extremely equal in his terms.

"Did I . . . do something to you?" she muttered nervously.

He almost succumbed to temptation, the temptation of shrieking at someone's face, but his mind had already connected with the word, torture. Yes, he smiled deviously. There was going to be torment, pain and suffering. Be prepared, foul lady, he thought precariously in his mind, I will rip you into pieces before sending you to the vultures. "No," Jaejoong beamed his most genuine grin. "Not at all. In fact, you enchant me. Your beauty can challenge that of Aphrodite's."

Work for Changmin was anything, but difficult. He just needed to smile at a few jokes and all the ladies' knees would become frail and shaky. He never had very high dreams; he enjoyed the simple life just as much as Yoochun. He loved being a high school teacher. He could teach his favourite subject, Math, to people. Plus, he wasn't just a teacher; he was a teacher at an all girls' school. That made his life even better; girls were easier to satisfy than boys. Girls also adored his face; thus, they never caused trouble in front of him. They were practically worshipping the land that he walked upon. They brought offerings to him, usually in the form of sweets, which he adored. Occasionally, they would even act as sacrifices, which he definitely refuted and even had to escape at times. He wasn't evil in that way.

As he headed into the staff room, he immediately spotted a crowd hovering over something, or rather someone. "New teacher," the Biology teacher, Lee Minho, walked to Changmin and explained. He was around the same age as Changmin, and so they were quick to become friends.

"Must be young then," Changmin commented coolly and made his way to the snack bar.

Minho rolled his eyes and followed, "You're not curious at all? You don't even want to see her face?"

Changmin reached for the banana and scoffed, "I'd rather eat this than waste my time seeing someone."

"Aren't you a sour lemon?" a voice chirped from behind Changmin. Changmin turned to find a tall, attractive lady pursing her lips at him, taunting him.

He recognized this stranger. It was most likely the new teacher. "Where's your troop?" he asked in demeaning manner.

"I left them for you, just so I can see who's being a sour lemon," she grinned widely and extended her hand forward.

Changmin started to peel his banana and then took a bite before saying, "Is this your way of saying hello?"

"No, it's actually most people's way," again, she flashed a smile, which made Changmin feel uneasy.

"Well, from what I've learned, when people say hello to an elder, they bow slightly," he confidently responded, finished the remnants of his banana and suavely checked his Rolex watch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ride to catch."

He strolled too carelessly without ever contemplating. There wasn't much to think about, except for the new teacher that he meant. She had an attractive figure, but she reminded him too much of a vase. He could look, but he could not touch. It would shatter to pieces and he would have to be the one sweeping the mess off of the floor. Just as he was about to exit the school's front gate, he felt a girl's body roughly brushed against his arm. In fact, she was stumbling and shuffling her feet forward just to carry her body's weight forward. The girl was of average height, an inch above his shoulders, with long, straight pigtails that rested on her shoulders. He was tempted to ask if she were okay, but suddenly, he was surrounded by a hoard of hormone-loaded teenage girls, who kept shrilling "Mr. Shin! Mr. Shin!". Their hands were continuously prowling and clawing his blazer. One even hooked her arm with his. He wasn't sure what to do until Yoochun shouted from his Audi sports car, "Yeah Changmin! Are you coming or not?"

Changmin chuckled as he saw the frowns of the teenage girls from the corner of his eye. He knew exactly what they were pondering. There were a few possibilities. A few were probably glad to see Yoochun since he wasn't that bad looking. He had his qualities. Those who hadn't seen Yoochun most likely questioned who he was, whereas those that always saw Yoochun wanted to know what his status was in Changmin's life. That was the thing that made Changmin smirk as he strolled towards the black car. "Thanks, Yoochun," he proclaimed and slammed the car door.

"Be gentle with my baby," Yoochun snarled. "And, what was that devious smile for? Your smiles are always up to no good."

"Oh, nothing," Changmin chirped and buckled his seatbelt. "I just love to make those little birds ponder."

"What little birds?" a sudden voice from the back inquired.

Changmin almost jumped up when he heard that voice. ", Junsu!" Changmin grumbled. "Don't freak me out like that!"

"Sorry," Junsu mumbled. "I just came with Yoochun because I needed a ride."

"What happened to your ride?" Changmin asked curiously. Junsu had a car, unlike himself, who chose to vouch off of others.

Yoochun interrupted as he flicked the signal sign. "Junsu, here, is letting his girlfriend use his car while she maintains her own car. Apparently the maintenance company couldn't give her a car."

"Wow," Changmin noted. "What a bad company."

"No," Yoochun explained. "She couldn't afford it."

Changmin's mouth formed a sly 'O'. "That's too bad," he replied casually. "But, Junsu, you're not so cheap anymore!"

"Since when was I cheap? Shouldn't you say that Yunho is the cheap one?" Junsu argued. He hated it when anyone complained of his pettiness. He wasn't that stingy; he just felt that some items didn't need to be bought. Jaejoong would have disagreed otherwise.

"True," the other two boys said in unison.

The car ride was then filled with silence, until out of the blue, Junsu asked, "So what were the little birds?"

Obviously, Yoochun and Changmin ignored Junsu's question. No one really felt like explaining to him the whole situation. It would not only take the whole night for his mind to comprehend, but also involve all of the members acting out the scenario. Junsu was a visual person.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four: The Leader Vows to be in Control.**

When the three boys, Junsu, Yoochun, and Changmin, arrived home, they were utterly flabbergasted to discover that the whole mansion was shunned with darkness and obscurity, except for the flashing plasma screen TV in the living room and an oval-shaped head. "Is that who I think it is?" Junsu muttered nervously and pointed his index finger at the shadowed figure. This was probably the boys' worst fear and may be even their nightmare. "I don't like this," Junsu shuddered and instantly walked towards the closest light switch.

"Don't," Changmin stated firmly. "Don't turn on the goddamn lights. You know how he'll be if we . . ." His voice had suddenly trailed upwards, which made the two boys grit their teeth. This was going to be a difficult situation to handle. Yoochun looked at the two still figures, who were perpetually stunned to death like wax mannequins.

Shaking his head in disapproval, he bravely ventured into the living room to confront the head. He took a gulp before asking, "What's up?"

Yunho didn't even turn his head and continued to slouch in the couch. He sat with his legs wide open and with his head lying on his right shoulder. "Nothing," he at last replied. "I'm enjoying my film."

Junsu bolted to block the screen with his arms spread far apart. "Stop it!" he piercingly shouted.

"Stop what?" Yunho sulked and looked upwards to give Junsu a glare.

"This," Changmin leisurely approached the three of them. "You never watch this movie unless something is bothering you." Changmin, then, made his way to the TV and pressed the off button.

As if by impulse, Yunho irritably stood up and bawled, "Shim Changmin! Who said you could turn off the TV? Who said you could kill Jihyun's screening time?" Yunho was charging right at his prey, Changmin, who just aimlessly remained stationary.

Yunho was about to seize Changmin by the collar, but thankfully, Yoochun intercepted by pulling Yunho backwards. "There's no need for you to show off your Hapkido," Changmin jokingly remarked and let out a conniving smirk.

"Changmin!" Yoochun grumbled. All of them knew how much Changmin always enjoyed becoming the accelerator to an immense fire and typically, Yoochun would be a supporter. Today, however, was not a time for teasing. Yoochun stared at Yunho's eyes that were exuding one emotion, anger. "Yunho, if you just tell us what's wrong, maybe we can help you out," Yoochun patted his dear friend's shoulder. "We're all like brothers, you know? So, we support each other no matter what."

Junsu piped his infamous dolphin cry, "Yes! Yes! _Konyaku, konyakuu!_"

Yunho only blinked his eyes to the point where it seemed like they were twitching. "I do not know you," he managed to say while Yoochun smacked Junsu's head with Changmin chuckling from afar.

"Idiot!" Yoochun whinged. "Why are you—"

Yunho serenely interrupted, "It's okay. Junsu didn't mean any harm and I'm sorry. I just . . . couldn't handle it anymore."

Changmin jeered joyfully and clapped his hands proudly, "And you guys always say that I'm the one that explodes! Ha!"

Yunho just rolled his eyes and plummeted to the couch once again. "My parents expect me to have a blind date with this short girl," Yunho relieved a sigh as he leaned forward and stared at the Blu-ray's cover of his favourite film. Before Changmin could bellow his laughter for the world to hear, Yoochun glowered and clasped his right fist.

As Yoochun carefully sat beside the victim, Yunho, Yoochun softly noted, "That already doesn't fulfill your requirement for your ideal girl."

"Yeah! I mean, how awkward is it for me to be dating a shorter girl? People will think I'm a pedophile, a pedophile!" Yunho thrashed his arms out.

"Reputation, reputation, reputation! Oh, you will lose your reputation!" Changmin subtly crafted in a British accent and took a spot beside Yoochun. There needed a barrier, a wall, to protect Changmin from potential injuries that Yunho could inflict.

Junsu cheekily supported Changmin's comment and gave him a high-five. "You're a genius, Changmin!" Junsu chortled, which led Changmin to unintentionally lift his head up higher as he absorbed all the praise that he could.

Ignoring the two immature boys, Yoochun suggested, "Why don't you give it a try? You shouldn't judge people by their appearances."

"B-b-ut I'm never attracted to short girls," Yunho mumbled under his breath. He knew he shouldn't disregard someone with such an attitude; that was never imprinted in his principles. He did know that it was true, how he could never feel that way towards a petite female. To be fair or to be judgmental was the question for Yunho.

Out of the blue, they heard a clap. "Ah!" Junsu's fist hit the centre of his palm. "It must be fate, hyung! You must be fated to meet her, so you have to see her! I was fated to meet my girlfriend. I met her at our family's restaurant!"

Yunho scratched his chin, "Perhaps, perhaps."

Changmin nonchalantly blurted, "Fate my ass. You take fate in your hands and you stick it up someone else's ass. Now, that's called 'Taking Control of your Life'."

"Well, in that case, I'll give it a try. You know, why not?" Yunho smiled warmly at Yoochun. "Thanks man."

Junsu unexpectedly disintegrated into complete laughter, "Yunho why not? Hahahaha!"

_*Konyaku, konyakuu _is a common example Japanese Dajyre joke. It means that "I'll eat konyaku tonight."


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five: The Mom Punishes the Child and the Free Spirit Floats in a Club.**

Who would have expected Jaejoong to treat Yoomi to dinner? After their cumbersome introductions, which Jaejoong insisted cut his life span by several years and deemed to be trivial, he decided that he had upgrade his game plan. He needed to learn more about his target, Kim Yoomi. He thoroughly enjoyed the motto: "Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer." Thus, he referred to those perpetrators as frenemies, which he believed to be entirely original.

The first thing that came out of Jaejoong's mouth after they ordered their appetizers and entrees at a French restaurant was, "So, tell me, what's your ideal guy like?"

Yoomi, who was in the midst of sipping water, almost spat all the liquid out from her mouth and had to take a few minutes to regain her composure. "What kind of question is that?" she frowned. She hated being embarrassed in a public area. To her, even choking on water was considered a sinful act.

"You don't even know your ideal type of guy? Shame on you, shame on you!" he bewilderedly reacted with an exquisite smile, as if he were offering his hand out for a fallen lady.

She wanted to snatch the whole basket of bread and throw in his face, yet she remembered the rules to be a lady. Calmness. Sweet, alluring serenity. Inhaling deeply, she returned a grin, "You don't have to worry for me. It's not hard for me to find the one."

Jaejoong had to control his urge to explode with laughter, so he held tightly onto his stomach. "Is there really the one?" he flashed another smile, showing off his flawless, straight teeth. If only perfectly aligned teeth represented a person's character, then Jaejoong could be on the path to a straight and honest life. Defiance, Jaejoong thought, was the key to success.

Yoomi wasn't sure how to respond to his question; he was playful and then he was serious. How was she supposed to answer properly? Was there even the right answer for Jaejoong? Trying her utmost to please him, she bit her bottom lip and replied, "I'm not sure."

"I'm glad you're so open-minded. I always hate it when I have to push people out of their comfort zones or their closets," his lips curved upwards. "Don't you think we should believe in polygamy?"

"NO!" she was quick to refute. "Polygamy is treacherous and ILLEGAL!"

"Calm, sweetie," he softly stroked her hand a few times. "Civilized talk doesn't have to involve loud voices, and you . . ."

"Yes?" she had no reason to be afraid, yet her body had instinctly shriveled backwards. She always hated when people stared deeply into her eyes; she tended to avoid their stares.

Jaejoong's lips pouted seductively and his body inched closer and closer to her before mentioning, "You don't have to . . . suck . . . up . . . to . . . me. It's not beautiful for girls to lie."

With that remark, Yoomi's cheeks flustered to a bashful red colour and she felt her heart skip a few too many times. She started to notice his large, navy eyes that seemed to have the ability to pierce at and highlight her flaws. She also felt her eyes beginning to water and she asked herself when the last time she cried was.

When her father . . .

To Yoochun, nights were meant to be forgotten and days were meant to be overlooked. He rarely spent a moment without some sort of alcoholic beverage. The boys were close to calling him an alcoholic, yet for some reason, Yoochun always knew his limit: 6 glasses of wine.

Today, he was already at 5-and-a-half glasses of red wine at his favourite bar, La vie, Life. He was practically there every night, showering himself with wine while wooing a lady of interest. He had one rule that he followed, which was never to break a woman's heart. Thus, he never committed adultery, but the rate of his changing of girlfriends was extraordinary. Sometimes, his relationships lasted for a month, and other times, they merely survived several hours to a few days. For every relationship, though, he opened his heart to the lady, who always became the one that rejected his love in the end. He was probably the only one out of the boys that had heard of every possible refutation, but none of that mattered to him. All that mattered were the moments where the women loved him; at one point, all of them had loved him.

Today, he decided to be single for once, and so he kindly and politely asked the person sitting to his right, "What does it mean to be in love?"

The roughly forty-year-old man quietly replied, "To feel wanted and needed."

Wanted? Needed? Was that what Yoochun craved? "That's all?" Yoochun now grumbled.

"For me," the bartender abruptly interjected. "It gives me a reason to look forward to each day. I know that someone is out there . . . waiting for me, so . . ."

"Mhm?" Yoochun looked up groggily. He could feel the effects of alcohol now.

The bartender continued, "If someone is waiting for me, then I need to be there to wait for her too."

Waiting, waiting, waiting. Yoochun had been waiting for ages. Trying, trying trying. Yoochun had been trying for years. Wanting, wanting, wanting. Yoochun had wanted to be in a steady relationship for a while. Where was she when he needed her? Unfortunately for Yoochun, she had departed long ago, and there was no way to keep her anymore. All of the others were synonyms or deviations of her, yet all of them echoed her message: I'm sorry, but I don't love you anymore. How many times did he have to hear that phrase until he understood the message? Finishing his final glass of wine, Yoochun couldn't help wondering why he could always stop at six for alcohol, but never stop at one for love. He only needed one. One love, one girl. Sadly, there was never a stop for this vicious cycle of loving and separating, and he would be fixed as a flat character, the player. People only believed what they saw for what they witnessed were facts. Facts were irrefutable; beliefs were restless. All Yoochun sought was for someone to believe in him.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six: The Hidden Devil vs. the Femme Fatale; The Innocent Boy vs. The Forbidden Fruit.**

Junsu held his cell phone in his hand, questioning whether or not he should call her. It was the afternoon, the time where the restaurant would close to rest and then prepare for dinner service. It was the ideal time for Junsu to usually head to an Internet café and play games, yet he wasn't in the mood for games. He was extremely anxious; after she had shyly confessed to him, he had never called her once nor did she. Now, that situation caused him to shudder. What if she was simply joking about their relationship? What if she was too embarrassed to call him? He gripped his small cell phone even tighter and sputtered, "Argh!"

"Son," his father composedly informed. "I'm not expecting to pay for a new phone." Because Junsu worked for his father, his father still had control over Junsu's finances. Junsu too needed to be an apprentice in managing his savings before he could truly prevail as the restaurant owner.

This was a distressing dilemma. Junsu used to know what to do, handling problems with such aplomb that the boys had to remind him that sometimes, there were other solutions. Today, he was bombarded by an amalgamation of indecisive thoughts. He could only waver. Consequences were envisioned in his mind. Who knew that a certain choice could lead to a potential mistake? The question was only involved a yes or a no. How arduous was this decision?

Very, Junsu thought. "Son, just call whoever it is you need to call. I don't want you breaking any plates," his father suddenly chimed in and all sense of responsibility dissipated from Junsu's mind. He could always blame his father in the end.

Junsu grinned, "Alright. I'll call." He swiftly dialed her number. He had already memorized it so well that only his fingers needed to move, while his brain could think of what to say.

He waited for a few rings until a charming voice answered, "Hello?"

"H-h-hi, it's me, J-j-juice," he accidentally blurted. Juice? What was he thinking?

"Junsu?" his girlfriend nicely corrected.

Junsu couldn't believe that he was blushing just because of a phone call. "Yes, ugh . . . I just called," Junsu started to choke on his own saliva. Why were so many things causing him grief?

However, all of his worries would soon disappear since she tenderly added, "I'm glad you called. I . . . I was worried that you weren't being serious about—"

"No, no, no! I really like you too!" he gleefully exclaimed. Oh shitake mushrooms, he thought. What was he even saying? He wasn't making any sense. This wasn't how he was going to confess to her. He then wished he had Yunho's ability to think before he acted.

"I like you too," she interrupted his conflicted thoughts. "I . . haha . . . like you a lot."

"So, do you want to umm . . . grab a drink, like soda or something?" he nervously posed. Soda? What kind of girl would like soda? It should have been cake! Cake and sweets! Who wouldn't be provoked by them? Even Changmin would be lured with cake.

"Sure," she agreed. "Why don't we meet at my favourite coffee shop this Sunday at 11?"

"Okay! I'll pick you up from your house! Wait . . . where do you live?" he asked.

She lightheartedly laughed, "I'll text you my address. So, I'll see you there then!"

"See you soon," Junsu only said after she hung up. He could never have the right timing in anything, except for games and sports. Those were different issues.

Even throughout dinner service, Junsu felt uneasy. It wasn't until he received a new text message did he feel at ease.

_To Junsu: I was really happy that you called. I know I should have said more, but I'm not used to having relationships. Maybe we could text first and then gradually start to call each other once we both feel comfortable. _ Fighting!_

His bold grin plastered on his face as he began to return the message confidently. There needed not to be fear. There only needed to be bravery. He was brave enough to embark on this love adventure, and he was now sure that she would be with him too, trying.

"Mr. Shim," a taunting voice lingered next to his ear, which almost caused Changmin to slap the owner of the voice. "You're not allowed to sleep in class." He hated when people badgered him during his nap time. Spare blocks for Changmin were not used efficiently in the eyes of experience teachers for he only cared about regaining his energy to deal with his absolutely remarkable students. They were students that yearned for his one look, but he never gave them what they wanted. He simply snickered, and continued with his lessons.

This annoyance, however, did not deserve a smirk. It deserved a full-scale attack. No one, not even his mother, dared to disturb his sleep. Changmin stood up too quickly and felt slightly dizzy as he yelled, "One, class is not in session. Two, the door was locked. Three, you aren't supposed to use a cell phone in school. Four, this is my free time and I do what I want, when I want!"

"No need to explode, Mr. Shim," the new teacher amicably mentioned. She helped him hold his weight steadily. "We wouldn't want to call the ambulance, now would we?"

Changmin crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him. "I actually wouldn't mind," he lightly jeered. "Because that way, I could sue you."

"Mr. Shim," her fingers grazed upwards from his fingertips to his wrist. "Do I sense some hatred in your voice?"

He became so irritated by her manner that he snatched her hand before it could reach his chest. "I don't remember permitting you to do that," Changmin warned her. This was as much chivalry as he could hand to a lady.

She licked her lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Rules . . . were meant to be broken," she chuckled too frivolously.

Now, this caused him to break out his signature smirk, revealing his vampire-like incisors. His head cocked forward and he whispered ever so nimbly in her ear, "I never knew that Ms. Kang was so easy. Is that how you became a teacher?"

Without delay, she pushed him away, letting his head slam backwards to the wall. ", that !" he cursed and rubbed the back of his head. Dissension was in the air, and an excruciating bruise was being born.

As Changmin struggled to ease his pain, a quiet, squeaky voice murmured, "Mister, Mr. Shim?"

Changmin looked slightly downwards. It was the student with the long pig tails. It was a miracle that he even remembered that trait. "Yes?" he retorted.

"The . . . school is having . . . err. . . a carnival in a month, so I was . . . wondering . . . if you could umm . . . be our class' teacher sponsor?" she stuttered horribly through her sentence. "Mr. Shim would . . . j-j-just need to be there for our meetings and . . . approve of our i-i-ideas."

Perhaps, Changmin felt sorrow and nice for once, so he concurred, "Sure, I can help out."

She began to incessantly bow, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"I . . . have a condition though," he never forgot to ensure that he received the best offer. "Your booth can only sell excellent food, and I have to have access to free food."

She looked rather stunned at first, but she quickly complied, "Okay, that won't be a problem!"


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven: The Leader Encounters his Queen of Spontaneity.**

Yunho arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes earlier than the time of his date. He wanted to be able to observe the way she entered the café and perhaps, the manner in which she carried herself. He was surprised, however, to find that she was late for fifteen minutes. Already, that was bothering him. He was 88.9 percent positive that he would not get along with her.

Just as he took a sip of his cappuccino, he looked up and noticed a petite girl running from afar. The girl was sprinting madly, but once she reached a few centimeters away from the door, she instantly halted and took a long look at the door's handle. Yunho was confused at first as to what she was doing, but then, he noticed that she was staring at the tiny tag beside the door.

Then, he understood what she wanted to know. Was this a door that needed a push or a pull? She smiled when she found her answer, yet she pushed the door open in such a way that the whole room seemed to watch her. She had made the loudest creak ever and this was not even a wooden door. She muttered while biting onto her lower lip, "Oops, hahaha." Yunho wanted to shrink into a corner as he witnessed the whole scene, yet he couldn't stop himself from secretly smirking at her folly.

Once he caught a glimpse of her face as she stood inside the café, trying to find him, he knew that this girl was the one that his mother wanted him to date and the one that his father had oddly approved of. She had rather pale skin with rosy cheeks that was probably incurred from all the running. The only other part of her that he managed to see was her raven-black hair that was relatively straight with slight curls at the ends. Unfortunately, he found her hair to be a bit too short for his liking; they were only a bit past her shoulders. Because she kept moving her head back and forth to scan the room, he couldn't analyze her features. He didn't feel like helping her either. It seemed more interesting just to watch her, yet he couldn't help feeling guilty. He wasn't supposed to be like Changmin, devilish.

He was just about to get up from his chair when she recognized him and sprinted right to his table that could be considered to be in the centre of the shop. Yunho was taken by her sudden movement that he immediately sat himself back down and even adjusted his chair further away from the table. She braked her running just as he did that and quickly took a bow and hastily apologized, "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm not good with streets! I was following the numbers and then I thought I found a pattern, but just as I turned a corner, it started going even! Then, I asked this man and he—"

"It's fine," Yunho interrupted. "I'm not angry." He didn't feel like listening to her blab on and on about why she was late. She could have just said one sentence to explain her tardiness. He, then placed his cell phone on the table as there was no need to check for the time anymore.

She muttered as she took her seat, "Interesting. I thought people would usually be irritated if someone were late. I mean, I would have been furious." She noticed that Yunho didn't even seem like he was listening to her and so she concluded, "Anyhow, I won't say more if I'm bothering you, but again, I'm sorry for my tardiness. Anyways, I'm Lee Jihyun." Then, she extended her hand out for him to shake.

Yunho sighed as he took another sip of his coffee. Sure, she carried the name of his beloved actress, but she was no means resembling of her. He didn't want to seem rude so he quickly shook her hand and uttered, "I'm Jung Yunho." He was surprised though, at how cold and dry her hands were. They probably would have failed Jaejoong's hand test.

There was quite a long pause between the two until Jihyun suddenly asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" Yunho mumbled and looked into her dark chestnut eyes. He noticed that she had moderate sized eyes that were still considered to be large for single eyelids. Staring right into them, he felt a bit uneasy. It was as if she had the ability to read his mind and he didn't feel like being invaded in such a way. Mind rape? I think not, he muttered to himself.

"How tall are you?" Jihyun pulled her body forward and then leaned her cheek against her hand.

Yunho blinked a few times before answering in a somewhat shaky voice, "6'1?"

She grinned, "No wonder your feet are pressing onto mine. Your legs are pretty long so I was guessing your height. Too bad I got it wrong."

"Sorry," he muttered. He had no idea that he was stepping onto her shoes. He kept thinking that he was resting his feet on the table's legs.

"No worries," she cheerfully said. "I always bump into people or trip on flat ground so I get these accidents! Actually . . ."

"Mhm?" he had gripped onto the handle of the coffee mug.

Jihyun smirked, "I'm jealous of your height. If I had legs that long, I could wear all these jeans without hemming! I could wear those long, flowing dresses with gladiators! I could . . . Sorry, I'm getting carried away again." She scratched her head with embarrassment as she briefly stuck out her tongue. Yunho realized by now that she was the type that liked to share her world with others, except he had trouble understanding what she was saying. She was a bit like Jaejoong in that sense. Perhaps, Jaejoong would be suitable for her and not him. Again, she tried to revive the conversation, "So, why don't we tell each other a bit of ourselves?"

"Okay," he reluctantly replied. "So . . . what do you want to know?"

"Your age," she giggled foolishly.

He shrugged, "25, and you?"

"Guess," she chuckled. Yunho found it odd for her to want to know his age, but now it seemed like she just wanted to test him with her age.

He coughed, "Well, my parents said that you're in high school so—"

"High school?" she burst out laughing. "I'm in third-year university. I'm just here for an exchange."

"Oh," he answered quietly. "You look young, very young."

Jihyun beamed a smile and responded, "That's what everyone says. Anyhow, most people think I'm around 15 or 16, so I always ask people to guess my age. It seems fun in some sense. Now, when's your birthday?"

"February 6," he said.

"March 12," she replied. "Favourite colour?"

"Green," he responded without much thought.

"Me too!" she cheered. "Finally, I've found a supporter of green! Okay, okay, what about . . . your favourite food?"

"Motsunabe,"

"And your favourite . . . How about you ask a question this time?" she decided. "I'm sort of tired of being the one that's coming up with the questions. Actually, I take that back. I'm thirstier. Miss!" She waved her hand gently when she saw the waitress passing by.

Yunho couldn't believe it. This was the girl that his parents adored. What magic did she conjure to entice them? What plans did she have in mind? Was she always like this, sporadic and unpredictable? He, then scratched his head in frustration. The question that ultimately needed to be answered was: what was he going to do?


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter 8: Strictly, a Family Affair.**

"So," Jaejoong sniggered loudly with his hands covering his cheeks. "How was the date?"

Yunho let out a long sigh and then answered heartlessly, "Weird and tiring. She asked all these questions. It felt like I was answering a super, long survey."

"Survey? I love doing surveys!" Jaejoong clapped his hands together.

Yunho rolled his eyes and stated, "That's what she said too. I think you two can be best friends or something."

"Cool, maybe you should introduce her to me some time then," Jaejoong casually suggested as he scooped a bit of the soup with his ladle.

Not really paying attention to Jaejoong, Yunho sat in his usual dinner seat with a hand over his mouth, thinking pensively until . . . "Hey!" he suddenly jumped up. "That . . . is not a bad idea!"

"W-what?" Jaejoong puzzlingly frowned.

"Jaejoong, you're a genius! Pure genius!" Yunho leapt forward and gave Jaejoong a hug.

"Careful, careful! Burning hot ladle here!" Jaejoong uttered hopelessly with his arms extended forward.

Just as the two were in the midst of their embrace, Junsu and Changmin had walked in on them. "Oh, hyung, I didn't mean to intrude . . ." Junsu quickly shuffled away.

Changmin just snickered and whispered gently, "About time."

"SHIM CHANGMIN!" Yunho roared and chased that kid down. He hated how people, particularly Changmin, made fun of male affection. Yunho was a touchy person; he couldn't resist hiding his emotions. Changmin scurried and soon, began sprinting towards Junsu's room. Only Jaejoong was left tending the soup in the kitchen. While scooping the fat droplets from the soup, Jaejoong had a trifling grin because he was faintly nostalgic of the far away past, when he used to secretly admire a certain best friend. Childish infatuation, he concluded.

"Junsu, shut the door!" Changmin beckoned as he tumbled to the ground. Junsu, who was too busy daydreaming, sat cross-legged on his queen-sized bed. He had been occasionally spacing out these days. Even during work, his father had to pinch his ears and drag him for a few metres before Junsu could focus again. This was primarily due to his excitement and trepidation for his upcoming Sunday date with his girlfriend. He kept imagining what he would say to her and how she would respond to him. If she smiled, then he would smile back. If she . . . "JUNSU! WHY AREN'T YOU CLOSING THE DOOR? HE'S . . ." Changmin bellowed urgently, hoping that Junsu would save him.

It was too late, however.

Yunho had entered the sanctuary. He howled in an unusually cavernous voice, "SHIM CHANGMIN! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" His fist was almost about to pound Changmin's face. Changmin, who was still vulnerably lying on the ground, stared fretfully at the angered Yunho. Changmin needed to formulate a plan, yet he lacked the time to do so. He wasn't willing to apologize for a trivial joke. To Yunho, however, this was not a laughing matter for he knew that Jaejoong would be somehow hurt. Yunho didn't like it when his friends suffered.

Luckily, Yoochun stepped in and asked Changmin, "Do you want to go buy some popsicles with me?"

"I thought you would never ask, Yoochun," Changmin stood up right away and followed Yoochun to the door. "Man, you should have asked earlier."

Yoochun cautiously reminded, "And you should have just kept your mouth shut. I have to say, it was a nice scene to watch. Maybe, I should have let the short film finish. Maybe we should can—"

Changmin promptly interposed and placed his arm across Yoochun's shoulders, "Ah, hyung. Why don't we focus on what is important, you know, buying the popsicles?"

Yoochun remembered how Changmin was an intractable problem, never appreciative of saviours and only wary of adversaries. Yoochun wondered how Changmin would mature. After all, maturity was never innate; it was only cultivated with persistence and conscientiousness. Changmin frankly never cared.

After an hour, Junsu blinked a few moments and then finally asked worriedly, "Oh no! What happened to Changmin?"

After being with her, Yoochun had developed a habit of rotating his head close to the edge of his right shoulder and then reaching his hand out, every time he was walking with another friend. She used to whine about how he walked too hurriedly. At first, she had to call his name several times before he turned to see her, a meter or so, away from him and almost lost in the crowd. Then, she would mope about his inconsideration until he remembered to lovingly hold her small hand.

"Yeah, hyung," Changmin noticed Yoochun's odd behaviour. "You should really stop looking back at me. You're giving me the creeps. It makes me think you like me or something."

"Sorry," Yoochun muttered and proceeded even faster to the entrance of the grocery store. He waited for Changmin to catch up before actually walking into the store. The two went straight for the section with ice cream and popsicles. "So, what flavours do you think we should get?" Yoochun addressed with his hands in his pockets.

Changmin pressed his index finger to the temple of his forehead and replied, "Tough question, hyung. It's like choosing for your mate. Oh, but for you, choosing mates are simple. You always have an influx of women waiting for you."

It was true that Yoochun never lacked women, but he still preferred quality over quantity. Yoochun advised, "Hurry, we don't have all day."

"Yeah, I know. You don't have to remind me," Changmin furrowed his eyebrows.

Reminders were what she used to say to him. She used to tell him not to forget to do this and that. Now, he had become the reminder. He hardly dismissed any chores and even insisted to work at a faster pace. Indeed, her departure had transformed him. He wished, though, that he didn't have to change. Change meant a shift in affairs and situations; he quite enjoyed being with her. He always recalled the memories he shared with her.

No matter how swiftly he moved, he was immersed in lassitude and lethargy. Sometimes, he wondered what the meaning to his life was, and then, he would force himself to stop, to disregard. It was at that precise moment where he felt he understood why he was still living and that was to scour for an indeterminate answer.

Changmin shattered the discordance in Yoochun's mind, "I got it! We will be getting sesame, blueberry, and lime popsicles!"

Yoochun nodded, "Alright, if that's what you want."

If that was what she wanted, then he would give that to her.

Harmony.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter 9: The Innocent Boy Has his Official Date with the Innocent Girl and The Mom Decides to Host a Party.**

Yunho grimaced when he heard Junsu's request at the front door. "Slap me. Slap me hard!" Junsu interlocked his fingers and directly pleaded. Junsu was clad in what he believed to be the best outfit he had taken from a mannequin at a store; he was never a coordinator of fashion, more of a follower. He wore a black blazer, along with an equally black tight-fitting pair of jeans, a black tank-top and a pair of leather shoes.

"You look like you're going to a funeral," Changmin suddenly popped out of nowhere with a spoon in his mouth.

Junsu screamed, "What? You serious?"

Before Changmin could exacerbate the situation, Yunho suavely interrupted, "You look fine. Just be yourself, and no, I won't slap you. I might kick you out of the house if you don't leave soon!" Yunho powerfully hit Junsu's back and added, "Good luck! Now, go!"

Changmin, who was a spectator, couldn't resist commenting, "Why do you always have to make things so dramatic? You're not starring in some film here, especially not with Jeon Jihyun."

"And you're not hosting some humorous show,"

"Oh, so you do find me funny! Why, thank you very much." Changmin artfully argued. "I never knew you thought so highly of me."

Yunho snorted, "And I didn't know that your standards were so low. Sorry man, you just don't hit the par."

"What kind of saying is that? Isn't it 'you just don't cut it'?" Changmin refused to admit defeat by words.

"It's a Yunho saying. Don't you know that clichés started out as unknown sayings?" Yunho nicely crafted, which silenced Changmin. There was some reason to Yunho's words. Just a tablespoon worth of reason.

Junsu never paid so much attention to traffic lights in his life until today. He kept chanting in his head that green meant go and red meant stop. His brain was deteriorating due to sheer fretfulness. He had envisioned all the possibilities that his brain could offer. Now, he just had to follow one of them and see what would happen.

When he saw her waving her hand and dressing in a long, flowing white dress, he almost believed that she was an angel. As he parked the car next to the curb, she opened the car door and immediately sat beside the driver's seat. He realized his mistake too slowly. He should have helped her open the car door. That was what Yoochun had taught him a few nights ago. "Is something wrong, Junsu?" she asked melodiously for she had sensed Junsu's irritation.

"No, of course not!" he rashly said.

The whole ride was embellished with stillness. If by-standers were to assess their situation, they would claim that they were having an argument. Junsu simply could not start a conversation, but it seemed like she was waiting for him to say something. Feeling the pressure burning, he drove even faster, praying that once they ordered their coffee, nature would take its course.

Unfortunately for Junsu, the silence persisted. They only spoke to order their choices and even after his latte arrived, he had inadvertently finished it in one fat gulp. Again, it wasn't until his hand wiped the corner of his mouth did he realize that he had committed another error. He had already driven away the romantic factor. He sincerely wished that Yunho had slapped him. Perhaps that would have reminded him of the crucial points to a successful date. He didn't even look up to face her. He was positive that she possessed a despondent disposition.

"Junsu," her euphonious voice resonated in his ears. "You're done already? Maybe, we shouldn't have gone to have some coffee."

He was utterly stunned. Shouldn't? Shouldn't? Was that what she said? "No, no, no!" he attempted to explain. "I just . . . I just don't know what to do. I mean, I've tried to do, you know, read articles online and then . . . argh. I don't know what I'm saying, do you?" He finally desperately gazed into her chestnut eyes.

"Nope," she replied. "I have no idea what you just said, but why don't we just be ourselves? Let's forget that this is a date and—"

"So, does that mean that we're over?" Junsu interrupted.

She unexpectedly started to laugh. "You're too cute, Junsu!"

"Cute?" Junsu's jaw almost snapped in half. This wasn't what he wanted his girlfriend to think of him, cute. What happened to his charisma? Then, he could sense Changmin's disturbing lullaby: "You never had any, cute dolphin."

Her hand waved many times in front of his face, "Junsu? Junsu?"

"Thank god, it's you and not Changmin," he mumbled under his breath.

Her eyes became brighter, "Changmin? Who is he?"

"Ah," Junsu quickly answered. "He's one of my best buddies. We go all the way back when we were . . ."

In the end, the date progressed with various stories regarding the boys, predominantly Changmin. Changmin's comments were the most memorable for they caused the most turmoil in the household. It was hard to tolerate Changmin, and it was also difficult not to accept him. That night, Junsu was thankful he had interesting friends. They were a joy to share.

"Yo," Jaejoong chanted in the living room. "Yo, yo, yo, I'm gonna say some yo yo. It's about time we've had a party, bros!" They were all watching the latest cooking show due to Changmin's overbearing request.

Yoochun rolled his eyes, "Dude, sometimes, I wonder if you actually have the skills to write songs. Thank goodness, you're not a lyricist. Changmin is still the man!"

It was true that Jaejoong was talented in music. He was like a genius; he could create songs out of the simplest sounds. Whatever he was humming was usually what ended up being the melody that everyone in the house hummed and soon enough, all of them were begging him to finish the song. At that time, Jaejoong would either agree to their pleas or he would invent another melody. Hence, the cycle continued.

Jaejoong, however, had trouble creating the lyrics of his songs and so, Changmin would be the one that precisely selected the words to the music. Changmin had a way with words, but that didn't make him a smooth talker, like Yoochun. It was as if Changmin had a secret love affair with language; he knew what words to use to describe a situation or a mood. After the words were put to the music, the piece was handed to Junsu to sing. Actually, Junsu never bothered to read the music notes. He preferred listening to Yoochun play to the music, while Jaejoong sang first. Then, Junsu would not imitate Jaejoong's voice. He would sing the piece in his own style, yet he was still able to be on tune. Finally, Yunho would be the one to dance to the song. Although his voice was not spectacular, his dancing ability could mesmerize people, even males. Perhaps, all of them could have taken a part in the musical world, yet none of them did, aside from Yoochun. A hobby could only be a hobby.

Thus, in the end, Jaejoong chose make-up over music. It was also because of Changmin's whines that Jaejoong decided not to be a chef. Jaejoong certainly did not want to tackle all of the dishes that Changmin watched on the Food Channel.

"Sure, let's have a party," Changmin hissed and took another scoop from his pudding. "If Jaejoong makes all of the dishes, then I'll join in and help finish them all."

Jaejoong looked up towards the ceiling, thinking, Changmin, Changmin, when would he ever stop thinking about food? "You can't expect me to do everything," Jaejoong loudly accentuated. "I need some helping hands."

"Didn't I say that I could help you eat everything? That way," Changmin licked his spoon. "You don't have to put anything in the fridge."

Yoochun raised his hand high, "I'll also help eat too!"

"Yeah, hyung!" Changmin whipped a high-five towards Yoochun whose reflexes were adept enough to react on time.

Only Yunho, who was sitting at the edge of the couch, kindly offered, "I can help buy some groceries after work and help wash the vegetables and the dishes." He knew how much effort Jaejoong exerted towards cooking and maintaining the house.

"I guess I should taint their food then," Jaejoong snickered. "Those disgraceful brats."

"Oh, come on, hyung," Changmin bitterly complained.

Jaejoong pointed out, "Hyung? Since when did you call me hyung?"

"I can call you that more often if you cook the food for the party," Changmin made his compromise.

Jaejoong scratched his chin. Hyung was an awfully important term to him. This could be a deal of a life time. "Alright, if you—" He was cut off too soon.

"Okay! I'll just call you hyung for that day," Changmin butted in. "Deal!" He instantly slapped Jaejoong's open palm.

"You!" Jaejoong leapt to tackle Changmin, only to be stopped by Yunho.

"Jaejoong, what do you want me to get for the party?" Yunho effortlessly shifted the topic.

Jaejoong responded, "Some carrots, mushroom, portabella mushrooms, not the shitake mushrooms, some red onions and . . ." As Jaejoong continued on with his list, Yunho compiled all of his requests into a note on his phone. Changmin, on the other hand, secretly chuckled to himself until he met Yunho's fierce look. Then, he only focused on the TV screen and did not speak for the entire night.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter 10: The Free Spirit and His Song; The Hidden Devil and His Escape.**

Alarm clocks were never friends of Yoochun. In order to wake up, he needed at least four clocks, each placed in separate corners of his bedroom and each being equidistance from his king-sized bed. He would set them a few minutes apart from each other, so he couldn't turn them off in one try. Thankfully, he was rarely obligated to go to work in the mornings, unlike Yunho, who usually stayed until late in the evening. Yoochun's career only involved composing songs, which meant that work was mainly finished at home. Even when he had to attend meetings with artists to understand their album concept, he scheduled them in the afternoon or preferably, in the evening.

When his cell phone vibrated on his night stand, he hesitated to answer it and at first, ignored the sound. However, persistence still irked Yoochun's conscience and his hand gradually reached towards his white cell phone. "H-hello," his voice at once cracked.

"Are you almost done that love song?" his manager impatiently inquired.

Yoochun's mind went blank for a minute. What . . . song? "Crap," he unintentionally bellowed.

"You forgot again, Micky?" his manager already predicted. Whenever Yoochun was asked to write a romantic song, he seemed to procrastinate or fail to remember his task. "You're lucky that I phoned five days before it's due to warn you," he pressed on.

"Yes, I know," Yoochun heaved a sigh. "I know. I'll start working on it now and I'll get it done by tomorrow."

"Great!" he felt relieved. "Just drop it by my office any time."

Yoochun replied desolately, "Alright."

Sitting up straight, Yoochun speculated how he was going to create this song. Inspiration was ungraspable at this stage, especially when he was not with her for years. He no longer felt that avidness to see her, yet he still thought of her. His recollection of their relationship did not weaken and instead, grew more vivid. Often, he would compare his other lovers with her. He reasoned why he loved them. Because they were more tolerant, more talkative, more . . .

Subsequently, he would ask: so what? So what if one reigned over the other? He knew, by that time, that he could not write anymore songs associated with love. Love was not supposed to be sensible. For him, it was that connection he experienced with her. Through one glance, he could foresee whether his future would incorporate her.

It did.

It always did.

Then, he stood up and walked towards his desk that was situated beside his night stand. Gripping a pen in his hand, he felt that that was his sword if he were a knight. Actually, he would prefer being the troubadour, playing music to his lover. With this reflection in mind, he began to write. He would etch his sentiments to music notes. Forlorn, regrets, contemplation, seclusion would meld into a ballad, a ballad that reflected her, but dedicated to him.

Changmin had a few known stalkers, who enjoyed taking photos of anything that was related to him. Although Changmin filed a complaint to the school, the administration blatantly ignored him. So, he bet that they were jealous of his popularity and decided that there was nothing frightening about girls. Unfortunately, he had to fight with all his might just to eat lunch peacefully. He didn't particularly enjoy witnessing camera flashes or even knowing that someone was there watching each move that he made. Furthermore, he hated dining at the staff room. There was always some teacher gossiping. Plus, all of the teachers were much older than him, so he could not really relate to their topics of interest. Whatever he blurted always seemed to offend them in some sense.

He could have eaten with Minho, probably his closest friend at work, but Minho was too talkative. Minho did not appreciate food like Changmin, and expected Changmin to respond to his every comment. Rather than make Minho frustrated, Changmin opted to alienate himself and eat in isolation. He just needed to find a new refuge for this school year.

Changmin wandered around the gardens at lunch for the roof top had been taken by new eighth graders. The gardens were not popular with the students; there was a rumour that a student had hung herself from the largest willow tree and that her spirit haunted the area. Although Changmin did not exactly believe in ghosts, he did not want to find a skull on the ground. This was the one reason that prevented him from enjoying his lunch at that location. Now that he had tried all the other places, he was just left with this one.

Thus, he continued to walk until he saw the gigantic willow tree with its branches leaning to one side. He noticed that there was a faint figure sitting underneath that tree. The fog had blurred his vision, making him almost believe that there was truly a phantom, but as he drew closer towards the shadow, he recognized that it was her. That student? He could only profess, "Oh, it's you again."

"Mr. Shim, what are you doing here?" she croaked as her pupils dilated.

Taking a spot beside her, Changmin put his paper bag on the soggy ground. "It's lunch. What else did you think I was doing?" he joked and stuck his hand into the bag to lift a multiple-layered sandwich.

"I-I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders and looked away. "People rarely . . . No, no one c-comes here, except for me."

Before he took a colossal bite from the sandwich that Jaejoong packed, he cheered, "Perfect for me. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

She bashfully answered, "Y-you can stay here, if you want. It's, it's a public area."

"This whole school is a public area," Changmin sarcastically added.

"T-true, but I d-don't own this place, so—"

Changmin patted her back with an excessive amount of force that almost caused her to choke on her saliva, "I'm just joking with you. There's no need to be so serious."

"W-well," she cleared her throat. "It's hard to know when someone is joking. I-I don't like jokes."

Changmin looked at her with some sympathy for she responded with sadness in her eyes. "Then, life wouldn't be fun without all the games," he clearly uttered.

"It's not fun when you're directly involved in the games," she firmly replied and looked back at Changmin. "It's only fun when you're watching them and even when you're watching, there's not much to watch."

For once, Changmin had no idea what to say. He was the king of comebacks, yet he had become speechless and stern. He found himself gawking at her nicely made lunch, which was complete with rice balls, petite octopuses, fried eggs, and a few small sausages. "Did you make it yourself?" he asked out of the blue and pointed his finger at her meal. She warily nodded. "It looks good. Can I try the octopus?" he inquisitively requested. Jaejoong never made octopuses like that.

Using her chopsticks, she grabbed an octopus and said, "I'll place it on your hand."

"Alright," his palm laid flat and once he felt some weight in his hand, he tossed it into his mouth. "Wow! That's really good! Can I try the eggs?"

"O-oh no!" she argued. "T-they're n-n-n-no good."

Changmin pressed on, "Oh come on, just let me try one." She shook her head and covered her hand over the eggs. After a few minutes of silence, Changmin finally added one last remark, "I think girls shouldn't be so stingy. If they hog all the good stuff, they'll just grow in fat. Guys, on the other hand, would grow in height, like me, or in muscle."

Then, she gave in, "Alright, you can have a piece, but only one."

Upon tasting the coveted eggs, Changmin shouted, "No wonder, you wanted to pig out and I thought you weren't the sort to lie."

She warmly smiled for the first time and despondently repeated, "I didn't lie. They are no good."


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter 11: The Leader Has an Unexpected Guest and The Free Spirit Receives Some Unexpected News.**

It was supposed to be a simple day. Another day, another time of a mundane weekend.

There was someone at the door. Junsu went straight to the security camera that could see who it was. "It's a girl. Anyone here know this girl?" he shouted. His voice set forth a congregation of boys pushing through each other to try to see who it was. Everyone, at first, assumed it was a girl looking for Yoochun, but when Yunho managed to see the screen, he knew who it was. It was Jihyun. How was she able to get to his house? He had no idea and frankly, he didn't want to know.

"It's for me," Yunho grumbled and pushed the button to allow the gates to open. "Guys, get into your positions now!"

"Fine," Jaejoong uttered.

When Yunho was about to open the door, he turned around to make sure that no one was hiding behind him. They were all in their set positions. In fact, they had rehearsed this formation so many times. Yoochun was to be behind the piano, pretending to work on his new piece. Yoochun rarely had to play that role for the ladies were all looking for him. Jaejoong was to be wiping the dust off of a vase with a white cloth. Changmin would be on the black leather armrest as he read a classic. Yunho usually put his earplugs on and listened to music on his ipod with a volume of 2. He wanted to be able to hear everything. Finally, Junsu just needed to sit in a sofa and pretend to sleep. Of course, he always kept his head facing the way of the door so he could occasionally get a view of the action.

Once the door was open, Jihyun looked upwards while Yunho looked downwards. She readily declared, "I thought I'd drop by!"

"Oh?" he shrugged.

"Just kidding," she smirked. "Don't worry! Gosh, you look like you just saw a ghost! Honestly, I'm not a stalker! I just thought you'd probably need this." She held out a black Samsung cell phone.

He was almost stunned. He had no idea that that was missing. "Where'd you find it?"

"The place where we met," she responded self-assuredly. There was no shame in telling the truth.

No wonder no one was calling him these days. He simply lost it. He felt like smacking his head on a wall. How could he have been so silly? "How'd you . . . know where I lived?" he shuddered at that thought. Stalker, better not be one, he begged in his mind.

Jihyun playfully suggested, "Guess. I'll let you have three guesses and then I'll tell you the answer."

Yunho was certainly not in the mood for games. "No, I am not guessing," he glowered.

She mordantly clarified as she rolled her eyes, "Well, since you're so docile, I'll tell you. I called your parents for your address."

"And how'd you get their phone number?" Yunho insisted on knowing. He did not like having his privacy invaded.

"Correction, they had my phone number," she heavily emphasized on the word, correction. "That meant that it was on my cell, so don't make any assumptions, alright? It's one of my pet peeves." Then, I'll make some more assumptions, he thought. She crossed her arms, "So, you're not even thanking me?"

Although Yunho did not want to admit defeat, he still kept his courtesy, "T-thanks."

"If you really want to thank me, then you owe me something," she playfully suggested.

Before Yunho could respond, Jaejoong rushed to the front and screamed, "Wait!"

Jihyun pensively asked, "Yes?"

Jaejoong shifted his gaze towards Yunho and slightly inched his head forward. Yunho knew what Jaejoong meant and so, Yunho left the two of them alone. Then, Jaejoong, making sure that Yunho was away, walked forward to Jihyun and gave out a chuckle, "I've heard all about you from Yunho."

"Oh," she mumbled anxiously. "And?"

"I'm Kim Jaejoong. Apparently, you and I are quite similar, so do you want to come to a party that I'm hosting next Saturday?" Jaejoong suggested rather spontaneously.

Jihyun laughed, almost to the point where her stomach hurt, "You're willing to invite a stranger just because you think that that stranger is like you?"

"Sure, if Yunho hyung says that we're close in personality then why not? I've always wondered what the female version of me would be like," he casually explained.

Jihyun let out a smirk from the corners of her mouth as she answered without any thought, "Sure. I also want to know the male version of me. Where's the party going to be and what time will it start?"

Jaejoong's hands rubbed on his moustache-less face. "I'm not very sure. I haven't planned that far. How about this, I'll phone you. What's your number?"

"Is this also how you usually make friends, by hosting a party and then asking someone for his or her number?" she playfully inquired. She loved blatantly sticking people into uncomfortable corners while she watched them struggle.

Jaejoong, however, showed no signs of hesitation. He bluntly answered, "Nope. This is actually my first time asking for someone's number this way. Usually people ask for my number."

"Alright," Jihyun decided. "Since I feel like you're being honest, I'll give you my number. I do have a condition though."

"What is it?" Jaejoong pondered for usually only people like Changmin had conditions, evil ones.

"You can't save it in your cell phone address book," Jihyun brightly twittered.

"Why not?" Jaejoong shrugged his shoulders. Even he had difficulty guessing what she had in mind.

Jihyun readily giggled, "Because I will only give you my number if you let me write it on your hand."

"Why is that?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You seem to like tattoos. I can see a large one on your back, so I should give you a tattoo," her finger tapped her own back.

Jaejoong eagerly inquired, "With what?"

"My favourite permanent marker," she reached from her purse and saw her sharpie. She hastily uncapped her weapon with a smile.

Jaejoong couldn't help grinning as he observed the girl write down carefully her number, making sure that the ink never spilled over. She did resemble him at times; she was odd in her own way, but still enjoyable. When he walked back into the house, he couldn't help wondering why Yunho wasn't fond of her.

For a long time, Yoochun didn't dare open the envelope. He had kept it in his pocket ever since the morning. This was his way of forgetting, yet somehow, the constant rubbing of the paper against the fabric of his leg served as a reminder, her reminder. Without even opening the envelope, Yoochun could already hypothesize its contents. He did not, however, have the audacity to study it and nor did he have the brutality to discard it completely. It was from her. How could he ever throw away gifts from her?

Even now, he kept a box that contained all of their memories in a fixed form: photographs, key chains, stuffed animals, writing, and a CD of her declaration of love to him. She used to say that when they aged together, he could listen to this CD if she were to pass away before him. Again, it was a reminder.

Before he slept though, Yoochun finally sat in his chair and placed the slightly crinkled envelope on his desk. Disregarding all thought, he hastily ripped the envelope, generating a loud swish. And he was right. It was exactly what he had thought, a wedding invitation. The cover was graced with a sweet, pink cake in the centre and had the phrase, "we are pleased to announce to you the wedding of . . ." Now, looking at the inner message, Yoochun remembered how she had described to him her dream wedding. The card already was rightly made. What other fulfillments would she make without him? Yoochun had expected a generic message, but he was surprised to see a handwritten one.

_Dear Yoochun,_

_How are you? I'm doing very well. I was going to phone you to invite you to my wedding, but you already changed your phone number. Sometimes, I wonder what you're up to. I know this may seem like a crazy request, but I really hope that you can attend my wedding. We've known each other for such a long time, so I would love it if all of my closest friends and family could come. RSVP. You know the number._

_May you find the one,_

_Soohwa._

So, only he had halted. She had surpassed him; he no longer needed to look back for her. He was supposed to walk faster and faster. He was supposed to replace her memories with fresh ones. He was supposed to be able to say her name freely and to agree to attend this wedding sans complication. He understood, but he could not commit to these actions. He didn't want to step forward. He wished to go backwards so he would never meet her.

However, he refused to live a life of regret. He wished to be unchained from this ordeal, yet he felt fate linking him closer and closer to the core of his problem. Perhaps, he thought, his diving towards the issue would eradicate all irritation and frustration. Freedom was tricky to obtain when it involved breaking free from the inner self.

What would be his first step?

Heaving a weighty sigh, Yoochun staggered to his bed and collapsed his body on the mattress. Ignorance was bliss, at least for now. Sleep, he believed, was his remedy for his heart, mind, and soul.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter 12: The Mom Dresses the Child and The Innocent Boy Takes Initiative.**

"You're too fat. Lose some weight, will you?" Jaejoong pinched the flimsy part of her bicep and then proceeded to poke at her tummy. "I don't understand why I even bother to be your stylist."

She wasn't sure how to argue with Jaejoong. For some reason, every time she was around him, she felt like his subordinate. Her mouth would seemingly fail to remember how to speak, yet her ears would always know how to listen. His words were enunciated too clearly that it was as if they were stabbing every inch of her soul.

"God, at this rate, we're gonna have to take you to the butcher's for some trimming. I bet you like being fat so can get attention from people like me," Jaejoong scornfully added.

"It's hard!" she finally yelled back. "Have you ever tried to lose weight?"

"No, I didn't need to. My BMI has always been around 19 or 20. You, on the other hand, have much to work on," he jabbed at her stomach again, causing her to squeal.

She backed away and roared, "Don't poke me!"

"I'm just trying to show you that you have to lose some of those pounds if you want to be famous. No one wants to watch a singer sing with wiggly arms," he still calmly responded and proceeded to poke her a third time.

"Don't!" she furiously shouted, leaving her throat to feel sore. "Get away!"

Her hands, however, unsuccessfully shielded him from her for he ignored her pleas and vigorously grasped her wrists to stop her flailing hands from hitting him. He coldheartedly stared into her now stunned eyes and carefully enunciated, "Well . . . try harder to lose all this fat, if you don't want to be known as a pig. If you think photoshop will work, well it does work. The problem is what comes after we photoshop you. All the fans will know that it was all a lie and then—"

She managed to break free from his grip and slapped him hard in the face. His cheek had begun to swell into the fullness of a tomato. His hand gently grazed the wound, and then he angrily responded, "Can't handle constructive criticism? Who do you think you are?"

"Who do YOU think you are, judging me like—" her voice had suddenly cracked. She could already foretell what was to happen, but she did not want it to happen all over again. The tears . . .

She immediately turned around and bit tightly on her bottom lip until a fresh wound surfaced with flesh and once the tip of her tongue tasted the iron-filled blood, her tears flowed down her cheeks. She remembered them always being cold and every time she cried, she would be stunned by how cool they could be and how fast they could flow from her eyes to her chest. Tears resembled the meandering streams that would eventually converge into some larger body of water. They always landed close to her heart and although within minutes, they would evaporate or seep into her clothing, what caused the tears to surface would not disappear.

Although Jaejoong did not witness her tears, he could hear her tiny sobs that she tried so hard to swallow down her throat. He was, however, practically immune from them because he believed that crying was a waste of time. No solutions would be found and the problem would only be ignited with exacerbation. Most of the time, in his career, women manipulated their tears to persuade men to give what the women wanted. Frankly, he was tired, tired of the emotional clients he had. They cried over simple, yet dramatized reasons. He did not want to listen to their woes. He was not paid to be a therapist and to ask them what he believed to be an overrated question, "So, how does that make you feel?" So, he simply commented, "There's no need to cry here. I'll give you a few minutes to calm yourself down and when you're ready to work again, come and find me." Then, he shut the door to his office and was strolling down the corridor to buy a cold frappucino to ease his bruised cheek.

Immediately after the door closed, Yoomi wiped away her tears. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a full-length mirror. She saw how pitiful she looked, how her make-up had smothered around her eyes. Grabbing a tissue from a Kleenex box sitting on a make-up table, she approached the mirror and dabbed at the blotched region of her eyes. "There, all better," she muttered to herself. Then, she took a few steps backwards and directly faced the mirror. She spent a few minutes, examining her figure, and then, uttered, "Okay, I can do this!" Yoomi slapped her cheeks once and then exited out the door to find Jaejoong. There was no time for tears, only time for work.

She turned left and walked down the long, narrow corridor. Remembering how much of a nuisance Jaejoong turned out to be, she kept mumbling complaints here and there, which included: "Who does he think he is?" and "Why wasn't there a better stylist in the industry?" Once she reached the small café to her right, she instantly spotted Jaejoong, who was now sitting and pressing a cold beverage to his cheek. There was a pinch of guilt that penetrated her mind. Perhaps, she shouldn't have hit his face and should have, instead, pinched his arm. Although that thought passed her mind, she still kept her composure and took a seat in front of him. "There's a photo shoot for my album in a week. We already have a concept in mind, but we're not sure what clothes would fit with this concept," she calmly stated.

Jaejoong unemotionally asked, "What's the concept?"

"Mysterious and mythical," she answered.

"Wow, M and M," he snickered.

Rolling her eyes, she added, "Any ideas then?"

"What's the album title?"

"Mysterium. It's Latin for mystery," she stayed tensely stationary, wary of what he was going to do next. "The title song is about forbidden love and it's not incest."

Jaejoong rested his cheek on his palm and after a few minutes, he announced, "I have an idea. Because it's going to have a magical element, I think we should have you wear a long, drape-like maxi dress. You'll be like a . . . sea goddess, not actually, you should be feared by people—"

"Aren't you missing the point here? Singers are supposed to be popular, not feared," Yoomi disputed. She was not going to let anyone destroy her dream.

His finger stood out and stopped her from arguing, "People should be scared of you at first, but you're actually a gentle creature."

"That sounds fine, I suppose," she reluctantly agreed. "Thanks, and sorry."

Jaejoong confusedly posed, "Sorry for?"

She felt some anger surging in her chest, but she still serenely commented, "I'm sorry for slapping you."

"This?" he lifted the drink from his cheek and pointed to the site of injury. "This is probably worth at least a leather jacket."

"What about a truce?" she proposed and held out her hand.

Jaejoong hesitantly shook her hand, "I suppose . . . when I feel like it."

Junsu was starting to become extremely attached to his cell phone that he regularly hit his pant pocket to make sure that his cell phone was within a minute's reach. The only acceptable reason for his suddenly adopted habit was his girlfriend. The couple had finally become accustomed to texting each other. They texted to say hello, to ask what each was doing, to make a happy face, to blurt whatever they had on their minds. Calling, however, was still a challenge, particularly when Junsu hated his speaking voice. His voice revealed every bit of nervousness in his body.

He still had to somehow find a method to invite her to Jaejoong's party. It was time to introduce her to his best friends, who would surely welcome her. Junsu felt that he had found the ideal lady and he was positive that the five would agree. His judgment wasn't as poor as Yoochun's. Moreover, all five of them would continually pester him about her unless they met her. Frankly, he never would have decided to introduce her to them until they were stable. However, Jaejoong's party provided the perfect setting for a gathering. She wouldn't need to become subjected to intensive interrogation from the boys, especially from Jaejoong and Changmin.

After many days of contemplation, Junsu decided to surprise her by waiting for her after school at the school's front entrance. From one of their text messages, Junsu had learned that she was also working at the same school as Changmin, so he knew where to find her. Thus, he sat there in his Lexus, waiting for her to pass through the gates. When he saw her, he immediately yelled her name.

"Junsu," she sullenly questioned as she walked towards his car with her arms crossed together. "W-what are you doing here?"

This reaction was not what Junsu had expected. He had anticipated for her enchanting smile and maybe even for her to jump into his arms. Instead, she displayed a cantankerous disposition. Her slanted eyebrows wrinkling her forehead, her tense stare, and her discontented frown all validated her irritability. Junsu felt his stomach twist into knots and his breaths were shallower and faster. "I . . ." his tongue became disobedient, so he just voiced, "I thought you'd be h-happy."

"I . . . don't like surprises," she still stood in front of the passenger seat. "You should have called beforehand or at least texted me."

"I'm sorry," Junsu rambled. "I just thought you'd be happy to see me and I wanted to invite you to a party that one of my best friend's is hosting at our house. I live with my four best friends, so I wanted to formally introduce you as my girlfriend."

She exhaled a breath of air before explaining, "I don't think . . . I'm ready for that."

"I promise that they won't bite. Well, I can't guarantee that about Jaejoong and Changmin, but I'll—"

She chimed in too quickly, "I'll be there then. I know you mean well. I'm just . . . scared."

Junsu switched off the car engine and hopped out of the car. He walked just in front of her and then delicately requested, "Is it o-okay for m-m-me to hold your hand?" Right after she bobbed her head up and down, Junsu conscientiously reached for her hand and held it with much care, "Y-you don't need to worry because I'll be by your side. I-if you w-want me to hold your hand, then I c-c-can always do that for you."

She hopelessly gazed into his eyes and stroked his cheek, "Why do you have to be so sweet?"

Junsu just smiled back and opened the car door for her. He should have been overjoyed for her compliment, yet he could see past the words' meaning. He could see the melancholy in her eyes and he could hear her tiny sigh in between the syllables. He only wanted to ask why she seemed so depressed.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter 13: The Leader Meets his Creators and The Hidden Devil Discovers The Geeky Girl.**

Yunho had no idea why his mother had hastily called him this morning to cogently persuade him to come home for dinner. The only reason he could probe from her was that, quoted from her, "it had been a long time since the family had gathered together as one". He was initially suspicious of her skills to craft such a smooth sentence, but then he remembered that his father probably made her memorize this. He also came to the conclusion that somehow his parents were plotting a sly plan with his father being the mastermind.

"So, what's the emergency?" Yunho questioned in an exasperated manner once his mother opened the door to greet him.

As he slipped into his olive green slippers, his mother repeated, "It's been a long time since the family has gathered together as one."

"Okay," he blinked. "So, where's our marshmallow?"

"Hey!" Yunho's younger sister, Jihye, barked and hit her brother in the shin, causing him to faintly whimper. "Who said I'm fat?"

Yunho smirked for Changmin had taught him the best comeback ever. "Marshmallow doesn't necessarily represent obesity, but if you think that way, then you must have some relation with fatness," Yunho calmly chanted with a ripe smile.

"Argh! You're unbearable, oppa!" Jihye stomped on his foot now. "You're still such a brat! Jihyunnie, I don't get how you stand my brother." Jihye had rushed into the living room and snuggled beside Jihyun.

Yunho's eyeballs almost popped out when he heard that name. He thought after one date, everything would be over. Who knew she had stalked him to his family's home? "W-what is she doing here?" he accidentally spilled out.

Yunho's father sternly upbraided, "Son, that was not very polite of you. I don't think I taught my son to behave that way."

"Sorry, Appa," Yunho gave a slight bow and took a seat beside Jihyun. He whispered in her ear, "Did you ask to be here?"

Jihyun straightened her back and murmured in his ear, "I told you before. I am not your stalker. Your parents asked me to be here. They never said you were going to be here anyways, so don't go off thinking that I came for you."

Unfortunately for the two of them, Jihye had interpreted their actions in a different sense and thereby, readily mentioned, "Ah! Those two are such love birds!"

"Love birds?" the two cried out in unison. Yunho had just shifted his head, while Jihyun still held her position. It looked as if they were drowning in each other's gazes, whereas in reality, they were only gawking at each other, perpetually dumbfounded.

Jihye bitterly complained and hopped off the couch, "You two should go get a room!"

"No, marshmallow, you've gotten it—" Yunho cut off his sentence once he saw his parents' dazzling smiles to the right. They thought that they had done him great service and now expected him to produce some results. Shit, he mouthed, after his parents disappeared to give them some extra couple time.

He gave Jihyun a hopeful look, yet she disappointedly remarked, "Don't look at me. I'm not the one that made your sister confused. It was you who decided to whisper in my ear first."

"What? Now, you're blaming me?" Yunho irately yapped and unintentionally waved his hand too close to her face that he had whacked her cheek.

"Hey! What was that for?" she snapped back. "I always thought you were somewhat rude, but who knew you were abusive?"

"Abusive?" his eyebrows creased together. "That was an accident!"

"And you didn't even apologize?" she argued and folded her arms.

Yunho felt his ears fuming with heat and his voice rising higher and higher. "YOU didn't even give me a chance to apologize!" he retorted.

"Well, if you actually were sincere about it, you would have immediately said sorry!" she fought back with all her might. She wasn't prepared to lose to the perpetrator. She was the victim!

Before Yunho could add anything more, the two felt someone powerfully push their heads towards each other and then, their lips touched one another's. This was just as they were about to both take a deep breath and then shout out their arguments. "You kiss and you make up and shut up," Jihye sang as she still held onto their heads. She started to count down while the two struggled to attack Jihye, "Five . . . Four . . . Three . . . Two . . . One! Tada!"

She let go of them and both of them immediately leapt backwards. They yelled, again in unison, "What are you doing?"

Jihye giggled and ran away, "I'm going to tell Mom and Dad all about this! They'll be so thrilled!" The two victims could only watch. The situation was already raging beyond their control.

So, they sat in silence for a few minutes before Jihyun gallantly stated, "You owe me . . . major time. It was my first kiss for heaven's sake!"

Yunho had to take a while to respond. "This . . . is your first time dating?" he curiously confirmed.

Jihyun nodded, "Unfortunately, yes. I didn't have time in high school and there wasn't much to choose from. That's another story though. Anyways, the bottom line is that you owe me. You owe me!"

Feeling rather guilty, Yunho reluctantly complied, "How am I supposed to make it up to you then?"

Suddenly, Yunho's parents marched in and announced, "We're so happy that you two are officially a couple! Jihye told us all about what happened."

"Appa, we're not really—"

"Yunho, you don't have to say anything. We understand that you may be trying to suppress your urges to show your affection for her, but you don't need to anymore. You're together now," his mother delightfully answered.

"B-but," Yunho attempted to say.

His father gently noted, "Son, we think you've made a great choice." He then bent down and carefully grabbed Jihyun's hands. "Our son will be in your care now. Please treat him well."

"I . . ." Jihyun couldn't respond.

His father continued, "Yunho, treat Jihyun well too."

Surprisingly, Yunho confidently declared and shook his father's hand, "I will."

Changmin had completely forgotten his agreement with the student until she showed up in his classroom after school and announced, "M-Mr. Shim, the me-me-meeting is about to start."

"What meeting?" he firmly asked. He was just about to pack up his belongings and leave the school.

"I . . . thought you agreed that you . . . y-you'd be our s-s-s-upervisor," she nervously stuttered.

Changmin scratched the back of his head, "Right. You guys can come in then." Changmin had expected at least three girls to enter, but only the student entered. "It's just you that's planning for the class' activity for the carnival?"

"W-well . . ." she wasn't sure where to start.

"The other members dumped everything on you?" Changmin easily surmised. Judging by her looks, anyone could tell that she was not very popular. She was the one whose name was usually forgotten by her classmates. She had long, straight hair that was divided into two pig tails lying on her shoulders and had straight bangs that just covered the top of her eyes. She wore black thick-rimmed rectangular glasses, which further enlarged her big, puppy-like eyes. With her fair complexion, she looked even more vulnerable. Perhaps, Changmin could relate to her feelings. He wasn't the popular one in high school, like Yunho; he too resembled her, hiding behind the books and behind his glasses. He only revealed his true self to his closest friends at that time. Now, he just didn't care.

She nodded and then quietly asked, "I-is it okay for me to sit here?" Her finger had pointed to the seat right in the centre of the class.

"Yeah, sure," Changmin's voice echoed. "I'll just help you out today with brainstorming. Next time, I do expect to see the other members here."

"I doubt they'll come," she sighed and took out a notebook, along with a pencil case.

Changmin argued, "They'll be there if you nag them. You have to constantly call them and perhaps even inform their parents of their duties. Then, they will most likely listen to you."

She gripped a pen tightly in her right hand and scribbled a title onto the page, "That's easy for you to say. I'm no good with strangers."

"I'm kind of a stranger, aren't I? I don't even know your name, but you can still manage to talk to me," he prodded.

"My name is Choi Miyun," she smiled with her eyes. "I've been in your homeroom class for the past four years of my high school, so I don't think you're that much of a stranger."

Changmin continued to reason, "You've known your classmates for several years now, so they're not really strangers either."

"T-the thing is . . . that—"

"You're scared, aren't you?" Changmin nonchalantly chuckled. "You're scared of rejection? You know the trick to not being scared, is to not care. If you don't care what will happen, there is nothing that will scare you."

She looked upwards to face his gaze directly. "Is that what you do?" her voice almost cracked. "Y-you don't care about anything or an-anyone?"

Changmin smirked, "You pick what and who you care about. You can ignore everyone and everything else."

She let out another long sigh, "If only I could be like you, then I'd never have to worry. I s-suppose we should get on with work." Changmin nodded and carefully listened to her ideas for the carnival for he was sure that no one else would listen to her. He tried not to stare at her too often since it reminded him of his old self. Back then, no one cared, except for his four friends, and even then, he just threw taunts and jokes. Sincerity was rarely associated with his comments after he learned to stop caring about everyone else. His sensitivity had impeded him from knowing any of his classmates in high school; he was afraid to voice his opinions. Now, when he spoke, he was reading words from his mind. Who cared about what this person thought? Most regarded that as his charm, and so if people accepted that part of him, why not turn this way?

Just before the meeting ended, Changmin stated, "If you still care about what others think, then just think before you speak. Just sugarcoat the truth for now."

She beamed a bright smile, "Although that'll take a long time, I'll give it a try, Mr. Shim, and Mr. Shim, I think . . . somewhere in your heart, you still care. You just care after you've done something."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter 14: The Mom Helps The Free Spirit Make a Decision. **

Early mornings were suitable for Jaejoong. He had many household chores to flawlessly complete, so it was natural for him to commence prematurely at 6 am. Breakfast had to be exquisite and stuffed with nutrients. He did not want to tend an ill friend; the colds managed to circulate once one person caught it. He also did not want people suffocating due to dust bunnies, so he took the time to experiment with various cleaning products, wiping down every counter or flat surface he saw.

Just as Jaejoong was whistling a new tune while walking down the spiraling set of stairs, there was already someone in the kitchen. Jaejoong, who was expecting an empty, semi-dark room, almost tripped and tumbled down the stairs when he saw Yoochun pouring himself a glass of water. "Wh-what are you doing here?" Jaejoong vociferously whispered.

"I got thirsty," Yoochun swallowed a mouthful of water.

"Judging by your pale complexion and your puffy eyes, I believe that you couldn't sleep last night?" Jaejoong examined from head to toe and proceeded to the refrigerator in hopes of finding inspiration for breakfast. Yoochun needed that extra boost of energy to last the day.

Yoochun nodded and leaned against the counter. "Barely slept at all," he continued and scratched his eyes with his hands.

"Don't do that with your fingers! You're going to get an eye infection," Jaejoong, whose head was already immersed in the cold atmosphere of the fridge, lectured. Yoochun thought it was fascinating how Jaejoong could just know every move that someone made. It was literally as if Jaejoong were clairvoyant and had a few extra pairs of eyes gazing at his subject. "I don't hear the tap running. Go wash your hands!" Jaejoong demanded as he retrieved some fresh fruit.

Unquestioningly following Jaejoong's instructions, Yoochun turned on the sink's faucet and began to scrub his hands with soap. "Better?" he asked with a tad of displeasure. He then took a seat beside the dining table.

"Much better. Now, you're allowed to have breakfast," Jaejoong flashed a grateful grin and dropped some fruit into a clear glass bowl. "Alright, tell me what's wrong."

"Just couldn't sleep that's all," Yoochun smoothly lied. "It's probably because I didn't turn the AC on."

Jaejoong chuckled, "Right. I'm sure that the heat made you have a sleepless night. Lies! Now, tell me, what's really bugging you."

"What if . . ." Yoochun suddenly paused. It was still difficult for him to say her name.

"Go on," Jaejoong turned on the tap and started to wash the fruit.

Yoochun sighed, "What if you received your ex's wedding invitation?"

"I'd purposely go to her wedding and freak her out. I'd pop out in every corner of her eye and then freak her to death!" Jaejoong raised his hands and cheered.

Yoochun let out a slight cackle and muttered, "All joking aside, what would you actually do?"

As Jaejoong took a clean, white plate from the stainless steel dishwasher, he corrected, "You mean, what SHOULD YOU do."

Even though Yoochun admired Jaejoong's honesty, he sometimes wished that white lies could be told. "So . . . your suggestion?" Yoochun's eyes slightly gazed downwards.

"Is this about Soohwa?" Jaejoong asked in a solemn manner. He had already stopped doing his daily chores, an important pause in routine. Yoochun only nodded. "I'm not surprised that you're still not over her. Actually, you've never been."

Yoochun's voice splintered like fragmented wood chips as he chuckled, "Probably only you'd think that way."

Jaejoong walked towards Yoochun and gently sat in the seat opposite of Yoochun. "Well, do you want to see her?" Jaejoong continued. "Are you prepared to see her move on with her life? Are you even ready to wish her well?"

Yoochun felt his throat wither, and his eyes weary and beginning to water. He quickly took a breath and shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know . . .but I do know that . . . I . . . c-can't get—"

Jaejoong muttered, "Just let it out. Let it all out. I've seen you cry many times and it's worse when you try to hold it in."

So, Yoochun's hand covered his eyes and he let the tears soak into his palm. He, at least, did not want them visible to the eye. While he struggled to capture them in his hand, he agonizingly finished his sentence, "I j-just can't . . . hate . . . her."

"It's alright to love her," Jaejoong caringly advised. "I know you're not the vengeful sort, so just try to love her in your way."

"Why is . . . it so hard to move on?" Yoochun grumbled and buried his head into his arms.

"Because you always thought that . . . maybe, she'll come back. There's always that possibility, but now that she's . . ." Jaejoong's voice trailed off. He didn't feel like regurgitating aching reminders.

Yoochun pressed on, "I always thought she was . . . the one."

"She isn't," Jaejoong coldly declared. "If she were the one, she would still be by your side. And sometimes . . . the person that you believed was 'the one' might not think you are 'the one'. So, don't be too tough on yourself. There are many 'the ones' for you. The hard part is finding 'the one' that will stay."

Yoochun angrily confessed, "I've stayed by her side for all this time!" Why was life so unfair to him in the game of love when he was the one that tried the hardest out of the five?

"You can't expect everyone to give their whole effort for a relationship and to stay loyal. People change," Jaejoong bluntly mentioned.

"Why then? Why is it . . .?" Yoochun's fingers rubbed his forehead.

"Don't think so negatively, Yoochun. You always go off in that direction. I know you've been trying to date other people, but have you given your 100%? Did you love them like you loved her?" Jaejoong tried his utmost to assess the situation.

"I don't . . . know anymore. Argh!" Yoochun smacked the table with his hand.

Jaejoong soothingly grinned, "I know I've said this before, but you have to try harder to move on, move forward with your life. Don't focus so much on love then if it's not working out."

"Do you even know how hard it is to do that?" he ferociously snarled.

Jaejoong tranquilly added, "I don't know, but I do realize that you keep forcing yourself to remember her. Heck, you even have a box of her stuff that you can't seem to throw away! If your future girlfriend saw that, would she say that you're trying to move on?"

"I just—"

"Go to the wedding, Yoochun. Once you don't see a possibility, you'll finally accept it and start to carry on with your life," Jaejoong suggested.

How could Yoochun see her when he even had trouble saying her name or even talking about his past relationship with her? How could he move on, though, if he didn't see her in someone else's arms? He never had that scene in his mind, that possibility that she was with another man. The only image that he pictured was of his chase after her. Perhaps, if his hand merely touched an edge of her dress, she would halt and turn to embrace him again. She would say that she had been waiting for him all this time to capture her. Wasn't waiting enough?

Then, he ruminated what she had always complained about him, how he was never eager to initiate tasks and how he hardly told her what was on his mind. Yes, he always waited, yet he never approached her. He had her cell phone number on speed dial, number one, but he didn't dare to touch that button. He frequently thought and pondered. Even if he displayed his emotions and affection, those were never enough to satiate her insecurity towards their relationship. She tended to argue that he "bottled up his feelings" and "closed himself in a box". He just didn't want her to worry; she was already worrying for him. Those reminders . . .

Even with those reminders, he never altered his attitude. He was Park Yoochun, simply Yoochun. He did listen, but did not accommodate with her. Laughing at his epiphany, he finally asked, "I haven't changed right?"

"Not one bit," Jaejoong retorted. "Still the same old Yoochun I've known for years. Why are you asking this? It's weird for you to be this spontaneous. Are you sure you're okay?"

Yoochun laughed even louder, "I'm alright, and I've decided that I'll go."

"You sure?" Jaejoong apprehensively verified. He had never seen Yoochun make a decision so quickly.

Yoochun bobbed his head, "I'm positive because I don't plan on changing."

"I don't get you," Jaejoong scoffed and stood up. He shuffled back to his work, washing fruit.

Yoochun didn't bother with any explanation for he finally understood that they would never work together. Individually, she was delightful and lovable. However, when combined with him, she changed. She changed for him, changed to remind and to badger him.

I'm sorry, but I don't love you anymore.

Meaning was at last enforced with her message. She had lost herself during their relationship, so how could she love him anymore? At the brink of their relationship, they had bickered too often. There was one time where she smashed a vase into pieces and screamed how much she hated herself and how it was all his fault. He never comprehended her infuriated remarks and used to believe that they were just words of rage.

Yoochun then concluded that he never completely understood her. She was the one that knew him too well. Because she knew practically everything about him, she no longer loved him when there was no hope in ameliorating their relationship.

He had just preserved his identity as Yoochun, and she, in the end, had wanted to keep hers as well. Obstinacy had resulted in their separation. Now, he could still regret and wonder what could have happened, yet he settled on seizing the day, his carpé diem.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter 15: The Beginning of the Party: The Leader is Unprepared.**

There were many rules imposed in Jaejoong's party, strict regulations that had to be followed or else entrance to the party was denied. These rules included a dress code, semi-formal, no smoking for Jaejoong hated cleaning after the ash pits, no heavy drinking, no vomiting, no drug taking, and no dirty dancing. Of course, Jaejoong would never act as the evil one who forced the rule breaks to leave. That job was for Yunho, who stood at the front door at the reception counter. In his hand was a list of questions that Jaejoong demanded Yunho to ask the guests.

His voice had grown robotic and his head didn't even bother to rise upwards to confirm the guest's face. He didn't know half of the guests anyways. "Name," his hand covered his large yawn. He was leaning most of his weight on the podium that Jaejoong had somehow found in the house.

"Lee Jihyun," the lady clearly publicized. Once Yunho heard that name and that voice, he was tempted to take a quick glance at the person, but he just prayed that it wasn't her. It was already awkward enough the last time they met each other at his parents' house. He felt his cheeks starting to grow warm after remembering what his sister had done to them. He nervously confirmed the list of guests with which Jaejoong had provided. So there was a Lee Jihyun on this list, he thought as he crossed off her name.

"Do you smoke?" he then followed his interrogation.

"No," she confusedly answered.

"Do you drink?" he pressed on.

"Of course, I drink . . . water, but no, I don't like alcohol," she mischievously replied.

"Do you dance in a dirty manner?" Yunho read the next question.

Jihyun confidently chirped, "I hate dancing in general. I've wanted to learn how to waltz though."

"Lastly, I have to make sure that you're wearing semi-formal wear," he had to lift his head to examine her attire. She wore a ruffled corsage dress in the shade of baby milk with black pin dots. There was a silky grey ribbon belt at empire waist, which complemented the tonal rose corsage at the scooped neckline. When Yunho scanned further upwards, he noticed that her hair was tied up to the side in a slightly messy bun, revealing her crystallized key necklace. He also realized that it was the Lee Jihyun. It was her again. He couldn't help, but spatter, "Whoa . . . What are you doing here?" Then, he shot a glare at her.

"I think you've said that about four times to me now," she warily remarked.

Before Yunho could say anything, Jaejoong had suddenly stepped in between the two and clarified in a placid manner, "Didn't I tell you that I invited Jihyun?"

"No, you did not tell me that," Yunho scornfully berated.

Jaejoong smacked Yunho's back a few times, "Well, now you know!"

Yunho pulled Jaejoong aside to a more secluded area and coarsely whispered, "What's your problem, Jaejoong? I've told you that I don't click with her."

"I click with her, so it doesn't really matter. She's my guest and a friend of mine," Jaejoong made a wanton statement and waved to Jihyun, who also returned the affable gesture. Jaejoong then gave Yunho a push, almost causing him to lose his balance.

As Yunho grudgingly walked back to the podium, Jihyun noted, "Didn't I tell you before that I detested assumptions?"

"Argh, alright, alright, I . . . I'm sorry," Yunho yearned to end the conversation.

She retaliated, "You're not forgiven."

"What kind of statement is that?" his voice shrilled.

"Actually, you're not even worth forgiving. There's just this rudeness that encompasses your presence," she pouted her lips and berated him.

"Do you always talk like this?" Yunho helplessly sighed.

"Like what?"

"Like that," Yunho answered.

"You're not being very specific here. You're not properly defining your demonstrative pronoun," she spoke in a rather demeaning approach.

Yunho decided to elucidate, "Do you always have to be so blunt?"

"I prefer being called straightforward. I don't see a point in lying," she finally explained. "So, why didn't you tell your parents the truth?"

"Because . . ." Yunho left his sentence hanging. He couldn't really explain why he couldn't refute his father's claims.

Jihyun dove to the heart of the situation, "Because you can't disappoint your father? You have to be the good boy?"

"Why do you have to be so pessimistic?" he sulkily complained.

She scoffed, "Weren't you the one that was being negative, calling me blunt?"

Yunho's thoughts were interrupted by a guest behind Jihyun, who yelled, "Stop quarreling you two lovers!"

"We're NOT LOVERS!" Yunho and Jihyun's voices fulminated in unison.

Jaejoong swiftly rescued the two of them and took Yunho's spot, "Sorry, Miss, these two are always quarreling over trivial matters. We call them the squabbling couple."

Before Jihyun could explain to the world their complicated situation, Yunho dragged her upstairs to his bedroom and locked the door. "Okay," he immediately informed. "We need to work this out. Since most people believe that we're a couple now, just help me out here and pretend that we're dating in front of my family and our friends."

"Why should I? You're the one that got us into this mess, so you should be the one that fixes this," she miserably sat on his bed and refused to even make eye contact with him. "Now that I think of it, after I met you, all these bad things started to happen to me."

"Hey! You can't blame me for each unfortunate incident you encounter!" He bickered. "Come on, please." She vigilantly shook her head. "Al-Alright, you were right. I don't want to disappoint my father."

She merrily applauded, "Ha! I knew that I was right! I'm ALWAYS right." He whimsically eyed her. "Okay, okay, okay, I was just joking. Gosh, you should really have a Kit-kat bar. Give me a break, give me a break, give me a break and a Kit-kat bar. "

Yunho just stared at her as if she were insane. He then calmly corrected her, "You have part of the lyrics wrong. It's Give me a break, give me a break, Break me off a piece o' that Kit Kat bar."

She placed her hands on her cheeks in embarrassment, "Oh my goodness! You're right! How can this be true? Why do I always get these lyrics wrong? I can't even finish the Mary had a little lamb song properly."

Yunho burst out laughing and tightly held his stomach. He laughed so hard that he collapsed onto the bed, taking a spot next to her. "I admit something," he finally managed to say.

"Yes?" she asked.

"You're funny," he teased. "Funny looking." He had received this ingenious joke from Changmin.

What he didn't expect was for Jihyun to say, "You know what?"

"What?"

"You're pretty," she jeered. "Pretty ugly."

He lightly chuckled, "Not bad. You and Changmin should really have a battle with words. You just might win him."

"Of course, I'll beat him! I'll keep digressing," she made a fist in the air.

He suddenly remembered what they were arguing about in the first place, "Speaking of digressions, we must stop digressing and get back to the problem. So, will you help me?"

"Help you with what . . . Oh, that. What's in it for me then?" she sat upright.

"What do you have in mind?" he worriedly verified.

Jihyun pressed a finger to her lips and thought aloud, "Let's see . . . I want a lot of things, but I suppose I'll be nice and just say that you'll show me around Seoul and drive me to where I want?"

"Fine," he sighed.

"Then," her pinky extended. "Pinky swear?" He was speechless due to puzzlement. He had never seen this action before. "I can't believe you've never had pinky swears. Here, this is how you do one." She hastily snatched his pinky and then hooked his with hers. Pressing their thumbs together, she finally acknowledged, "Deal!"

Everything had happened so quickly that Yunho only managed to laugh while she thought that he was crazy.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter 16: The Middle of the Party: The Innocent Boy Officially Introduces the Innocent Girl to the Boys and The Free Spirit Gives the Innocent Boy Some Advice.**

Junsu was well-prepared for this moment. He wore the best-looking suit that he had bought straight off of the store's mannequin and he also sprayed some Hugo Boss cologne that he secretly borrowed from Yunho. Yunho would never notice that small amount of decrease in liquid. Hopefully not. Now, he had managed to gather all the boys to the living room to officially introduce his girlfriend. She, too, was well-dressed. In fact, Junsu had discovered that she was too well-dressed; her dress was leaning towards the revealing side. Her taupe satin dress had a deep V neckline with tonal beading on wide shoulder straps. There was criss-cross ruching detail on her chest region, which was accented by the pencil skirt of her dress. Just before he began introducing her, Junsu took off his black blazer and considerately offered, "Here, wear this. I don't want you catching a cold."

She eyed him with a smile, "But I'm not cold."

"I . . . I don't want others seeing you dressed like that," Junsu mumbled.

She giggled and playfully hit his arm, "You worry too much Junsu!"

"B-but—" he tried to reason, but was cut off by Jaejoong, who kept waving his arm back and forth.

"Hey, Junsu! I see her! I see your girlfriend," Jaejoong winked and patted Junsu's arm. Jaejoong then enthusiastically posed to her, "Would you like to be a star?"

Junsu glared at Jaejoong and elbowed him, "Don't do that!"

She bubbly grinned and held Junsu's hand tightly, "It's okay, Junsu. Your friend is only joking. I don't mind."

Yoochun noticed the tension building up between Junsu and Jaejoong, so he quickly suggested, "Junsu, why don't you introduce your girlfriend to us? We don't even know her name yet."

Junsu regained his composure and cleared his throat, "Guys, this is Kang Nayoung." Nayoung stepped forth and gave them a nod and a gentle smile.

Yunho prodded Changmin, who was still preoccupied with eating his raw oysters, "Yeah, Shim Changmin! Pay attention! It's Junsu's girlfriend here!"

"Hey, cut that out! Can't you see that I'm—" Changmin impulsively growled at Yunho for almost making him choke, but once he saw Nayoung, his clamour faded. In fact, Changmin almost dropped the overfilled porcelain plate of seafood. Thankfully, Jaejoong had diligently prayed to the gods, and by chance, Changmin's hand regained its balance.

Yunho perplexedly asked, "You alright?"

Changmin wiped his mouth with a napkin that he held in his hand and tranquilly answered, "Yeah, I just needed to recover from that choking matter because of SOMEONE . . ."

Yunho stuck out his arm in a defensive position, "Don't make me use a shoulder throw on you."

"Show off," Jaejoong scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Let's ignore these two imbeciles. So tell me, why would a pretty girl like you pick someone like Junsu?"

Yoochun barked, "Jaejoong, don't say that in public!"

Nayoung giggled and lovingly looked at Junsu before replying, "Well, I actually asked Junsu out. I usually ate at his father's restaurant, and Junsu was usually my server."

Jaejoong continued to tease, "Junsu! You're never the waiter unless it's for some hot chick, huh?"

Nayoung noticed Junsu's face completely flustered, so she added, "Is that so, babe?"

Yunho, Yoochun, and Jaejoong all stared at each other in absolute bewilderment. Babe? Even Yoochun's ladies never called him babe. Only Changmin managed to indifferently state, "Junsu isn't like that. He's very faithful, so you don't have to worry about infidelity. I do wonder about yours though."

Yunho butted in and smacked Changmin's back a few times, "Don't mind Changmin here. He's too outspoken at times. He's a good guy though."

"I know," she put up with a smile. "I know Changmin is a good man." Everyone else was relieved that she had an open heart, except for Changmin and Yoochun. Yoochun felt that her expression towards Changmin was rather odd; her certain tone was as if she had known Changmin for years. Yoochun knew he had to speak to Junsu privately. No one wanted Junsu to suffer.

Almost as soon as the group conversation was over, Yoochun pretended to invite Junsu for a drink over at the bar. Handing Junsu a half glass of wine, Yoochun first congratulated, "Cheers!"

"Cheers," Junsu lifted his glass and then gulped the whole liquid down.

"You never change, do you?" Yoochun chuckled friendly before plummeting to the sensitive topic. "Junsu, don't get mad if I say this, but I think you should be careful."

Junsu shrugged, "Worried about what?" Yoochun was hesitant to state his potential findings. After all, there was a high chance that he was being too perceptive, overanalyzing actions and expressions again. If he didn't say anything, however, he was sure that he would be regretful. Junsu was one of his best friends. How could he knowingly let a close friend plunge into a possibly agonizing situation? How could he foment an inkling of disloyalty based on one rendezvous? Tormented by this enigma, Yoochun decided to finish his drink first. It was better not having an extremely conscious mind to say words of uncertainty. He was up to his third glass when Junsu grew impatient and mentioned, "So . . . what were you going to say?"

Yoochun then bellowed, "I'm worried that Nayoung is not suited for you."

"Why are you saying these things all of a sudden?" Junsu irritably questioned. He was already quite bothered by some of his friends' attitudes, particularly Changmin's. Sure, Changmin was never a man of enchanting words, but there was no need for him to show contempt.

Breathing in a gasp of fresh air, Yoochun carried on, "I don't think she's sincere. There's just something about her that doesn't—"

"Yoochun, if you're going to be disrespectful about her, then cut it out," Junsu rudely interrupted. He began to march away from Yoochun, who still held onto the glass of wine. However, Junsu halted and asserted, "Man, I always thought . . . that you'd be the supportive one. You haven't changed either. You're still so bitter about love."

Although Yoochun craved to correct Junsu's statement, Yoochun still remained silent. It was unnecessary to argue with someone in love. Only positive aspects of the lover dwelled in that person's mind. Yoochun knew that was true for he was culpable of that crime. He just wanted to save his friend with a warning. Warnings, however, resembled the terms of agreements of a forum, often overlooked and ignored until an offense had been committed. By that time, it was too late to be remorseful and only punishment awaited.

Yoochun just plead that he was wrong and that he was actually being bitter about love. He knew though that he had already begun to advance to the present.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter 17: The End of the Party: The Hidden Devil Confronts the Femme Fatale The Mom Goes Hunting Without the Child. **

It was close to the end of the party, where more than half of the guests had already left. Changmin had been wrathfully observing Nayoung. He was astounded that she was Junsu's girlfriend. It was also because she was Junsu's girlfriend that made Changmin's anger soar. He did not understand her behaviour towards him; that type of communication was unacceptable for someone who had a boyfriend. It was wrong, despicably wrong. For once, Changmin felt the need to interfere with someone else's life, and so, he approached Nayoung, who was finally alone at the buffet table, like he was leading an incursion. "What do you want?" Changmin viciously roared in her ear from behind.

Nayoung cautiously whispered, "I don't think you should be standing so close to me. You forgot that Junsu's here?" She gracefully clasped the tongs to select two pieces of sashimi, "Want one?"

Changmin shook his head, "Just answer my question. What do you want?"

"What are you talking about Mr. Shim?" She shuffled along, examining the next set of dishes.

Changmin loathed the alluring tone in her voice. He even felt a vein pop on his forehead, "What do you want from Junsu?"

"He's my boyfriend," she pivoted in Changmin's direction and revealed a smug grin, which exacerbated his rage.

As she was about to step forward, Changmin vigorously gripped onto her shoulder and roared, "Then, why are you making advances towards me?"

Her face squinted in pain, yet she still detachedly addressed, "You're thinking too much, Mr. Shim. Chill, okay?" Her shoulder rolled backwards, coldly shrugging his hand off. She then moved again to the right to look at her options for food.

Changmin, who was already at the brink of impatience, disdainfully accepted, "Alright, I'll 'chill' on your terms. You just have to tell me why you picked Junsu."

She finally set her plate down at the edge of the table and reported, "I like Junsu's innocence. He won't hurt me."

Changmin urgently cautioned, "You better not do anything to Junsu."

Nayoung verified in a slightly astonished manner, "So, you value Junsu that much?"

He just composedly replied, "He's one of my friends."

"Then, let me be your girlfriend," she rashly recommended.

"Is this what you wanted?" he felt his resentment surging again as he fiercely glared at her.

Unexpectedly, she threatened, "If you won't agree, I will be sure to break his heart."

Changmin knew that her calm demeanor could only have derived from artifice and careful calculation. He had been too rash, too blatantly ignorant. He was already several steps behind in this web of love. Moreover, he had no idea what Nayoung was planning to do. Acceptance, he thought, was the first step to winning. Obedience was most likely not expected from him; the most unexpected behaviour was the best counterattack. All he had to do was to calmly wait for his chance to rebel. Sporting a conniving grin, Changmin remarked, "Alright, two can play this game." He suavely moved a few steps to be inches away from her and leaned his head close to her lips. He stayed motionless until her eyes closed in anticipation. Tauntingly licking his lower lip, he whispered in her ear, "This . . . is what a good boyfriend would do, right?"

Nayoung angrily pushed him away and scurried to Junsu's direction. Upon seeing Changmin, Junsu waved. Changmin with one hand in his pocket lethargically returned the gesture and then sighed. He shared a deep revulsion for complication. Women and their drama, he scoffed to himself.

Yunho, who saw Changmin's expression, walked towards Changmin and gave him a pat, "Changmin, what's up with the face?"

Changmin gave a condescending look, "My face is fine. Ha, maybe it is my face that dig so much that is causing so much ."

"I thought we all agreed not to call women like that," Yunho scolded.

"Well, Yunho hyung, you've clearly never met a ," Changmin rebutted.

Throughout the night, Yoomi had her arms crossed and her lips infamously pouted to frustration. This was not right, she kept engraining in her mind. This was not how a guest should be treated at a party. Jaejoong had invited her to his festivity as a way of showing his agreement to their truce and also as a way of introducing her, or so he claimed, to important figures of the entertainment industry. Instead of everything that he had promised, she was faced with loneliness. She knew no one from the party, so she was forced to sullenly stick food into her mouth to ease her mind. She also paid close attention to Jaejoong's ware bouts. She had already decided that if he were to cross paths with her, she would definitely present a wondrous tirade.

Unfortunately, Jaejoong was far from her. He was too hectic, tending particularly to his male guests, which Yoomi found to be odd. Jaejoong was surrounded with a pool of handsome, sophisticated men. She watched as he laughed at their comments or jokes. She watched as he pleasantly nibbled on his delicacies. She watched as he covered his fatigued yawns with one hand. She was so engaged with her observation that she almost screamed and dropped her plate of food when Jaejoong snuck behind her, murmuring, "If you wanted to talk to me, you could have just said something, instead of staring at me like a stalker."

"I'm glad to know I'm not invisible. What happened to introducing me to other people?" she harshly reminded. She hated broken promises. They reminded her too much of her father.

He stuck out his tongue and explicated, "In the entertainment industry, it's brutal. You don't expect people to do things for you. You're the one that needs to take initiative."

For some reason, she felt her anger subside. His presence had a pacifying attribute. She also knew that he was right, so she reluctantly agreed, "You're right." However, it wasn't right for him just to thrust her into that type of world. She could be considered as a baby in the entertainment industry. Who would push a baby off of a cliff of uncertainty? Jaejoong just did, she reminded herself. "I just . . . wanted to be doted on before meeting with complete strangers," she tried her utmost to clarify.

Jaejoong felt his heart soften, so he gently took her hand. "Come on," he beckoned for her to follow. "It's not too late for some introductions." Jaejoong almost had to drag her across the floor for her to move. "Don't be shy now," he prompted and tightened his grip. Unfortunately, Jaejoong was wrong this time. Yoomi had completely forgotten about the anxiety of meeting strangers. She could only focus on one thing and that was that they were holding hands. He was holding onto her hand.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter 18: The Leader and the Queen of Spontaneity Prepare for Their Exam. **

Yunho had selected the perfect time to meet Jihyun, a time where none of the other boys were at home since most of them were still at work. Changmin was at school teaching, Jaejoong was working with his new entertainer, Yoochun was at the studio for once to present his song, and Junsu was discussing the restaurant's renovation with his father. Yunho should have stayed at work like usual until around 8 pm the earliest, but he had taken a few hours off. This meeting had to be held at a quiet setting without the other boys bothering them. The two had to practice first, practice to be a couple.

So, they started with the rudiments, getting to know each other. Although their first date had already consisted of questions posed by Jihyun, Yunho hadn't focused on her answers at all. Thus, he had to commence again with more effort. Being painstakingly prepared this time, Yunho had brought out two one-inch-and-a-half binders that contained dividers labeled with the titles: interests and dislikes, dreams, pet peeves/habits, ideal qualities for the other. In between the dividers were sheets of lined paper. He also bought a diary that was the size of a mini laptop and had a light green cover. When he handed those supplies to Jihyun, she had to admit that she was stunned by his attentiveness. "So, when it comes to work," she first said as she opened the binder. "You're very dedicated."

"Of course," he replied. "I take pride in my work."

Jihyun then asked, "So, are you expecting me to record all of your answers and then memorize them?"

Yunho nodded and added, "We have to be able to know everything that will be in here by heart. There is no room for errors."

"I spy with my little eye an inner perfectionist," she quietly snickered.

He ignored her comment and continued, "So, let's start with ideal qualities for the other."

Jihyun immediately began to list, "I want someone who is honest and responsible. He has to be able to carry a conversation with me. He needs to be able to listen to my complaints, but also provide feedback when I ask for input. He should be funny, but no dirty jokes. He should have goals, but he can have a dorky side. Mhmm . . . what else? I can't think of anything else for now. What about you?"

Yunho, who was hastily scribbling down notes, slowly replied, "I like tall girls. I'd prefer it if the girl can cook. She has to have a good heart. She can lead me, but she has to know that in front of other people, I'm in charge. She should be sexy and calm. She has to be good at details."

"I umm. . . don't think we'll work out fine," Jihyun bashfully stated. "I don't mean to be rude, but how are you going to explain to your friends why you picked me when I don't even fulfill half of your ideal requirements?"

He rashly retorted, "Never mind about them. I'll deal with them somehow. Let's move on with pet peeves."

Her eyes lit up, "That's easy! I hate people who don't even try to listen to what I'm saying. I hate it when people lick the corner of pages with their hands and when they bite their finger nails. I also despise people who break their promises and when they ask me to repeat what I've said many times. I hate it when they also keep nagging at me. Most of all, I hate people that make assumptions."

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Oh! I hate arrogant people, who don't deserve to be arrogant. I think you can only be arrogant if you have the skills. Also, I hate it when I'm wrong, so don't rub things in my face. I'll definitely snap at you and it won't be pretty," she rapidly rambled. Yunho was amazed at how she could speak her mind so freely and how she had such a vast number of pet peeves.

He began to explain his set, "I don't like people that are lazy. I dislike people who don't have goals. I hate being called cute. I hate rudeness. That's about it, I think."

Before Yunho could continue with the next topic, Jihyun butted in, "This has been on my mind for a while. What do you expect me to do with this?" She lifted the notebook to show him.

"Oh, that's for us to trade journals," he clarified. "I think that would one of the easiest ways for us to know more about each other, so every time we meet, we'll write an entry in this diary. You can keep the journal after this meeting. Next time we meet, I expect at least a paragraph."

"Demanding much?" she prodded. "But, I suppose it's better than phoning. I have to say holding a phone close to your ear is pretty tedious for your arm, at least for mine."

He rolled his eyes, "Anyways, what are your qualities?"

She laughed, "Don't we find out about qualities after dates or whatever?"

"So, I see you're impatient," his pen moved on a page.

She huffed a sigh, "Yes, you find out someone's personality like that, through showing. Oh, did you know that that's also a literary technique? Showing?"

"Oh . . . okay," he didn't dare tell her what he jot down, weird.

Jihyun knew that he was writing an undesirable adjective; his hesitant and dawdling hand movements told her all she needed to know. "Let me guess what you wrote. I'll guess three times," she suddenly broached. "Weird, odd and strange. Three wonderful synonyms." Yunho almost dropped the pen in his hand. How did she know? He was wordless. "So, silence means that I'm right, yes?" she confirmed. His head slowly and reluctantly bobbed due to his embarrassment. Noticing the slight redness on his cheeks, she lightly comforted, "It's alright. I get that a lot." She let out a warm smile, "I'm practically immune to it, aha."

Yunho could hear the minor split in her voice, so he gently apologized, "I'm sorry."

"I already said I'm okay!" she loudly proclaimed and walked forward to tap his shoulder. "I'll tell you when I'm not, alright?"

He could see through her smile, a heartrending one. Without much thought, he grabbed her hand that was still patting his shoulder. Pulling her whole body towards him, he wrapped his arms around her, offering a tender hug. At first, she resisted by attempting to push him away with her arms, but he adamantly held onto her. "Sorry," his low, soft voice mumbled close to her ear, causing her to languish in his affectionate embrace. For a while, she let him be, wondering how he managed to detect her coveted feelings, and why she permitted him to hug her. She always despised intimate gestures or actions, yet she felt at ease in his arms, a sense of security with a pinch of trust.

Trust, she believed, was the first step to a relationship. Perhaps, she thought, this could work. So, she too wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on the edge of his shoulder blade. Feeling weary, her eyes slowly closed. She thought of nothing, but felt harmony. He, on the other hand, wondered how long he would have to stay in this position. His muscles were starting to numb; numbness was not a sensation that he enjoyed. However, he was stationary, wary of each trifling movement she made, from her change in breaths to her occasional shifts in body position. He knew that she needed him to stay, to be there for a moment in time, as a means of healing her frail heart. He now understood that even with her way of words, she was really as delicate as her appearance showed. It was then did he realize that she was not so weird anymore. She was like any lonesome person, who just needed to be embraced with an extra tad of love. He would, therefore, open his mind and heart to first accept her ways, and then to grow to care for her. He would be a gardener, who always remembered to water his plants, to add fertilizer, to snip unwanted leaves, and to be on the lookout for pests. She would be a rose, who was clad in spikes, but still needed much concern.

Everything would turn out fine, he thought. He would make sure that everything would actually be fine.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter 19: The Free Spirit Attends the Wedding.**

Everything seemed so surreal to Yoochun. No one he knew was at the wedding dinner. He had missed the ceremony due to conflict with work, but he had made sure that he was on time for the dinner. A promise was a promise and he was a man of his words.

Upon entering the venue, which was at one of Seoul's finest hotels, he noticed that she had chosen the décor that they had agreed on for their ideal wedding. There was a long red carpet that led to the entrance to the dining hall and there were grand chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The colour scheme of this wedding was in the shade of light yellow, faint orange, and a dash of brown. At the reception table, he recognized her parents, dressed in traditional clothing, greeting the guests. He hoped to quickly walk by without their noticing, but his presence was majestic, which was because of what he wore. He wore a grey pinstripe suit with metallic greyish-blue dress shoes, while most guests wore black. He grumbled to himself that he knew he should have worn something less attention-seeking, but ironically, he also wanted her to know that he was there. When he was about to cross the entrance to the hall, the father grabbed him by the arm and almost dragged him away. However, Yoochun immediately showed him the invitation, to which the father unwillingly let go of Yoochun's arm. Yoochun already felt that he was at the brink of distress. He kept thinking how this was a bad idea, but he still walked towards his assigned table.

When he took his seat at table six, he was the second to arrive. There was a woman, who looked to be in her late twenties to early thirties, to his right. Her long, wavy hair that stopped at the end of her chest blended with her dull, somnolent eyes. Her draped coral dress, gathered in tulip shape, had an oversized flower on her bodice. This contrasting combination of a happy dress and a dejected person was unusual for a wedding. He knew too that she was suffering; he just didn't know what was causing her misery. "I didn't expect you to be here," the lady abruptly stated in a monotonous tone. Her arms were tightly hugging herself.

Yoochun asked in a puzzling tone, "Excuse me, but who are you?" Once she lifted her head and directly faced him, Yoochun instantly recognized her. She was Soohwa's older sister, Junghwa. At the time of Yoochun's relationship with Soohwa, he had been introduced to their whole family. He had developed a close bond to every member of the family, especially with Junghwa, who often acted as a mediator between Soohwa and him. Junghwa greatly differed from Soohwa. Junghwa was like Yoochun, a thinker. Junghwa also preferred quietude and possessed a calm disposition. Yoochun was still surprised at her drastic change; the woman whose eyes used to be full of life was now withered and battered. It was as if she had given up on living. "I guess . . . it has been a long time," Yoochun finally answered. "So, I forgot what you looked like. You've changed."

"You too," she murmured. "If you were the same, you wouldn't have come."

Yoochun grinned, "I debated about attending this wedding for a while, but I felt it was time to move on."

Junghwa at once added, "I apologize on behalf of Soohwa for all the pain that she has inflicted on you. I still think you're the best guy for her."

"Thanks," Yoochun laughed. "So, are you encouraging me to start an affair with her or to elope with her?"

She shook her head as she smiled, "No, of course not. That would be ludicrous. I also know that you would never do that to her. You would have chased after her all this time if that were the case."

Yoochun's head hung low, "You know something pitiful?"

"What?"

"I think you probably know me better than she did," he then looked up with a grin.

Junghwa gave a few consoling words, "That's why I usually had to step in and help with your fights with her. Yoochun, don't feel too bad about this. At least you weren't married."

Yoochun wanted to ask why she seemed so bitter, why she had changed, but he for one did not dare to intrude with someone's privacy and secondly, the MC already started with the introductions. The bride was entering with the groom as if they were dancing side by side. Soohwa looked happy with him. Yoochun could tell because she was too cheerful to notice anyone. Plus, her dimples were thoroughly indented and her eyes were completely dazzling. He then noticed her extravagant wedding dress, fully decorated with beads and lace. It was the one that they had shopped for together, the one that she had finally persuaded him to adore. He had preferred a simple, white empire waist dress, but she yearned for everyone's attention. Now, she wore it, the ivory, strapless mermaid gown featuring a beaded empire waist by Pnina Tornai. He carelessly laughed at himself, at his folly for she was right. This dress was made for her.

When Soohwa sat down at her place, which was in front of everyone, Yoochun couldn't help thinking that the groom beside her would have been him. They had practically visited all the bridal shops and various hotels to plan for their perfect wedding even though they were not engaged at that time. Perhaps, that was also why she left him. She had left so many oblivious hints to him, nudging him that she wanted to be married. He, however, was blind and just tagged along with her, being dragged here and there, being pushed to listen to her desires.

Suddenly, he heard a clink coming from a table to his far right. This noise escalated to an uproar of cutlery hitting the wine glasses, along with a repeated chant of "kiss, kiss, kiss". Although Soohwa was hesitant at first, once the groom winked at her, she succumbed to the audience's pleas. As Yoochun watched the two inching closer and closer to each other's lips, he felt the urge to dash away. His legs had flinched and he instantly stood up. Excusing himself from the table, he exited the entrance and walked to the lobby of the hotel. He took a seat in one of the French arm rests and inhaled a deep breath.

He still couldn't go forth with his decision. Brushing his fingers along his spiked hair in frustration, he wondered why he was acting so pusillanimous. Fear had reached all parts of his body and had instructed him to escape. If he hadn't, would he do something absurd or shameful? Yoochun closed his eyes and wished that he had the ability to go back in time. He would have arrived later and missed the scene. Then, he wouldn't feel this way, but he had to push himself to reality. Dreams were meant for sleeping, not for living. He couldn't get himself to open his eyes; tears would spatter and there was no one to reassure him. Perhaps, he would visit the bar tonight and drink away his sorrows. Wasn't that what he had been doing for a few years? Why were old habits hard to break?

He felt that he didn't know anything anymore, what he wanted, what he loved, and what he hated. He just wanted to know what to do. Why wasn't he a prophet? He could listen to someone's orders and forget about everything. That would mean that he should have listened to Soohwa. He was the stoic one.

There was too much contradiction and complication running through Yoochun's mind. Can anyone save me, he asked himself. Was there anyone to save him?


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter 20: The Hidden Devil Makes a Discovery and The Innocent Boy Becomes a Chauffeur. **

Changmin came to Minho's classroom to know whether Minho would skip the staff meeting after school. Changmin only went to those types of meetings if Minho were there. At least, the two could occasionally talk to each other.

Changmin wasn't astounded to see Minho finish his lunch at the end of the day. Minho never seemed to have time to eat until then. "I'm surprised you don't have an ulcer by now," Changmin taunted when entering the room.

Minho, with his mouth half full, retorted, "You're just jealous that I have something to eat right now."

"You read my mind, psychic," Changmin muttered. He enviously watched Minho devour a small octopus and then his eyes trailed to examine the other parts of the meal: fried eggs, rice balls, sausages. They were all positioned in the same way as the ones in Miyun's lunch box. "D-did you make these yourself?" Changmin pryingly wondered.

Minho shook his head and scoffed, "No! I only made the eggs."

"Then, who made all the other stuff?" Changmin persisted and marched to the piece of evidence.

"Does it really matter?" Minho asked back and used his chopsticks to pick up the eggs.

Changmin nodded, "Of course, it matters. I want Jaejoong to learn these tricks."

"Then, he'll have to learn from my sister," Minho replied before stuffing his mouth with food.

"Since when did you have a sister?" Changmin's eyebrows creased together.

Minho answered in between his munches, "For a while now."

Changmin found it odd of Minho to have a sister. Minho was the sort that loved sharing his family's stories, but he never mentioned a sister. "She's a nice sister then, cooking for you," Changmin finally said a compliment.

"She's a good kid," Minho assertively remarked and then wiped his mouth with a napkin.

Changmin immediately took this chance, "Now, let me try the goods." Without Minho's agreement, Changmin had already snatched the chopsticks that Minho had placed on top of his food and picked at some of the egg. Changmin's impeccable speed made Minho dumbfounded, and the by the time, Minho could think, Changmin was already gulping down the chewed food. "They're hell good, Minho! I never knew you had talent in that area," Changmin stridently announced. "Now, let me try the sausage." Again, Minho could only watch the carnivorous-like friend devour his lunch. No one could stop a hungry Changmin.

With one taste, Changmin knew who the chef was. The distinctive use of mozzarella cheese and a spicy paste of jalapeno sauce lightly smothered on the sausage gave away the chef's identity. What a small world, Changmin thought. He then understood why Minho never bothered bringing up the topic of siblings. It would have been extremely awkward for Minho, especially with his occupation.

"Changmin," Minho interrupted Changmin's thoughts. "If you like my lunches so much, then you can always have them every day, starting from tomorrow."

Changmin pondered, "Since when were you this generous?"

Minho chuckled, "Don't worry. I'm not asking you for a favour."

"Then, why are you giving me good food all of a sudden?" Changmin probed.

"It's better this way," Minho carefully explained. "It's . . . the least I could do."

Changmin knew that this was not a message for him. It was a message for her and for Minho. The hopeless pause and the careful phrasing of Minho's sentence revealed this answer.

Junsu was fifteen minutes early, waiting in his car at the teacher's parking lot.He had finally managed to convince Nayoung to let him pick her up from school every day. To persuade her, of course, he had used his ultimate move: puppy eyes. No one could resist what he deemed, the Junsu puppy eyes. All he needed to do was to open his eyes widely and then to jut out his bottom lip in a pouty manner. His signature move had a 90% accuracy rate and he was sure of that number because he kept track of all statistics related to games and sports.

Now, he was only concerned with time. He had scrupulously planned everything from the time he would arrive at her classroom to what he would wear. Every minute or so, he would look at his cell phone for the time. When it was six minutes away from 3:15, he casually opened the car door, closed it, and beeped the remote to lock it. He felt confident in his white suit, despite Changmin's reminder of Junsu's resemblance to a ghost or a wannabe groom. Thus, Junsu walked at a steady face, ignoring anything to his left or right. All that mattered was his destination, which was her classroom.

With his impeccable timing, he had arrived there with a minute to spare till the bell. He stood at the side of the door and waited. He kept rehearsing his lines in his mind. Hello, hello, hello. Ready to go? Ready to go? Ready to go? You look good today. Argh, no, no, no! Nayoung looked good every day, so he had to change that statement to . . .

The doors had opened, unleashing a bunch of school girls, who pushed and shoved to run off to their lockers. So, everyone still hated school, Junsu thought. Unfortunately for him, a few girls had stayed behind to ask Nayoung some questions about homework. They were the ones that had noticed his presence. One feisty girl chirped in a ghastly tune, "Ms Kang! Who's that? Is that your BOYFRIEND?"

Junsu bashfully blushed, but still proudly confirmed, "Yes, I'm her boyfriend." He then walked towards her and calmly put his arm around her shoulder.

She, however, shrugged her shoulder and suggested, "Why don't you girls run along now? My friend and I need to talk."

"Okay, Ms. Kang!" a bubbly girl chimed.

Finally, a quiet-looking girl wearing pig-tails uttered and handed a pen to her, "Ms. Kang, could you please sign my absent note?"

"Ah, yes," Nayoung used the pen offered to her and scribbled her initials on the paper. "There you go."

"Thank you," the student bowed and ran off.

When the room was at last empty, except for Junsu and Nayoung, Nayoung grimly harked, "Babe, I don't mean to hurt you or anything, but I thought . . . I thought I told you that I wanted this relationship to be kept as low-key as possible." Now, she was the one that had an innocent, doe-like look, which made Junsu's heart shrivel. Why was he always making her upset? Why wasn't anything working the way he had planned?

His hoarse voice croaked, "I . . . I forgot. I d-didn't . . .mean to hurt you." Junsu loathed the sound of his own voice; it was as if someone had harshly scratched a violin's strings, creating a screechy racket.

Sensing Junsu's disheartened state, Nayoung gave him an affectionate hug and pressed her head against his shoulder. "You . . . didn't hurt me," she softly whispered. "Just come a bit later next time to pick me up." Junsu felt his whole body tensing, eternally frozen. Only his thoughts were free to wander. He wondered why she didn't want the world to know about their relationship? Was he embarrassing as a boyfriend? Was it his white suit? Was it . . .

He gave up thinking, letting all sense of emotion dissipate. At least, she still let him pick her up from school. The only thing that mattered was that she was there, hugging him. He should only focus on this intimacy, yet he couldn't. He could only focus on her words, mainly the tone of her voice. Words were deceptive, but vocal pitches were not.

In the end, he had disappointed her again and again.


	22. Chapter Twenty one

**Chapter 21: The Mom Is Too Impatient. **

It was the most enjoyable time, yet the most murderous time for Jaejoong. He loved his work, but he never understood why all of the singers loved to make their comeback around the same dates, all packed closely together. Was this their way of establishing their spot as the top singer? Was it that enjoyable to flaunt their wins in front of their foes' faces? He could never understand that sense of competition. He just wanted an easier life without all the multitasking. His head consequently throbbed, which made his temper short and spicy. People had always compared him to a habanero chilli during his stressful periods.

Unfortunately for Yoomi, she was his last client of the day. His room for patience was already maximized for the previous client kept complaining to him about her boyfriend's lies, and ultimately kept crying in between her rants. So when Yoomi arrived late due to heavy traffic, Jaejoong immediately bawled when he saw her, "Hurry! We don't have time! Gosh, what's up with people being divas these days?"

"There was an accident involving three cars and a truck on the highway, so it took us longer than we expected," she first clarified. "Why are you in such a prissy attitude?"

"No time to explain. Now, hurry! We have to get you changed and dressed for your MV!" Jaejoong literally pulled at the back of her blouse and dragged her to the changing room. Everyone stared at the two, which completely mortified Yoomi. She also could not stop wondering why Jaejoong was acting this way. His behaviour made her question the chemical processes that occurred in a male's body. She could only conclude that premenstrual syndrome affected males too, the great PMS that haunted females and their counterparts. Before she could ponder further, Jaejoong slammed the door and announced, "Take it off. Take everything off!"

"W-what?" she blinked. "Take what off?" She was finally free from his grasp and needed a few minutes to come back to reality.

"I said," Jaejoong already had a strapless, aquamarine mermaid dress in his hand. "What else can you take off? Your clothes, of course!"

"Wait . . . what?" she instantly backed away from the approaching creature, Jaejoong. "W-why are you coming so close to me?"

Jaejoong furiously explained, "I have to help you dress! Why else would I want to be near you?"

That line brought a sense of relief to Yoomi. He wasn't going to rape her. She had heard of many rumours that executives or directors preyed on new starlets. Thankfully, Jaejoong did not have that in mind. Yoomi still could not accept his request. She was not a fan of anyone staring at her naked body. "I can dress myself!" she argued and dashed to the opposite corner of the room.

"Do you see this?" Jaejoong flipped the dress to show her the complex corset. "This means that you need my help." She nervously shook her head. "We'll see about that then. I'll be right outside and if you're stuck . . ." he took off and tossed the dress at her.

Picking up the gown from the ground, she realized that this was going to be a challenge, one that she had to win. She had been losing to Jaejoong every time, and frankly, she had grown tired of being a loser. Ever since she started working with him, she felt meek. He always had the last word. Weren't gentlemen supposed to let the ladies win? Sadly, this was a world of equality. Competition was supposed to be fair.

In the end, she lost. Although she had managed to squiggle herself the tight-fitting dress, she still needed help with the tightening of the corset. It was not as if she could work with a bare back. Grudgingly, she opened the door and shrugged, "Come in."

"I have to say," he held his head up high. "I told you so."

"Just do your job," Yoomi answered with much animosity.

Even though they were behind schedule, Jaejoong carefully pulled at each ribbon and tried as gently as he could to tighten her corset. Perfection was essential for him and for her, diligence was needed. She wanted her debut to be astounding; there was simply one chance at fame, unless she wanted to be known for notoriety. Scandals were memorable, but highly degrading. She did not want to do anything that could jeopardize her reputation since building one was already burdensome enough.

Reputation, with responsibility tagging along, became one of her dilemmas when it was time for her to film the second to last scene of her music video. Simply put, it was a kissing scene. Yoomi had completely forgotten about that part of her music video and the last time she checked, her manager told her that it was possible to pretend to kiss. Thus, when the director instructed her to passionately kiss her male actor, instinct had told her to shake her head and defy authority. "No!" she had accidentally blurted.

The director just looked at her in disappointment and declared, "We're going to take a ten minute break! After this, I expect you to be ready to do what you're told. If you are still not cooperating, then I will have to excuse myself from directing."

Jaejoong, who was watching by the side, could not tolerate her stubborn objections. As soon as the director finished his orders, Jaejoong rushed to her side and pulled her to a more secluded area, which was back at the dressing room. "Let go of me!" Yoomi irately demanded.

Jaejoong, however, ignored her and even gripped tighter onto her wrist. When the two were finally separated from everyone else, Jaejoong calmly stated, "Just do your job. Wasn't that what you said to me earlier?"

She did want to complete her work for everyone was waiting for her. Moreover, she could not let people think that she was obstinate and unreasonable. Rumours would spread like dandelion seeds floating in the air. All it took was one breath to disperse the seeds and all it took was one action to ignite the rumours.

However, Yoomi could not overthrow the thought of kissing a stranger out of her mind. Conservativeness had been firmly instilled by her parents throughout her childhood. Don't wear too revealing V-cut sweaters. Don't sit with your legs uncrossed. Don't ever make sexual jokes. Don't be friends with low-class people. She had listened to so many "don'ts" that they had fused with her behaviour. The only major opposition that she had ever made to her parents was her career. They wanted her to marry into an equally wealthy family, to have children, to cook for the family, to in essence become a housewife. She, on the other hand, strived to realize her dream as a singer.

This was her dilemma, either to keep her principles or to pursue her dream. Kisses were meant to be between lovers, not between co-workers. Plus, the last time she kissed . . . She had forgotten what it was like to kiss and she surely did not want her most recent and vivid memory of a kiss to be with a hairy-chested foreigner. Truthfully, she knew what she should do, but it was a matter of ignoring what she wanted to do.

Jaejoong could not stand looking at her wishy-washy expression. He could tell that she was still thinking or debating. Who could be sure and who really cared? He just wanted the job done. Then, he would go home, have some chilled beer, eat some edamame beans, take a long bath, and then go to bed. This was his remedy for a traumatic day. Tired of her silent thinking, he sought for action. Indeed, he made his rash move. His two hands softly sandwiched her cheeks and his lips landed on hers. "See?" he let go. "That wasn't hard." Too stunned to even respond, Yoomi could only blink. Did he just . . . "Don't tell me that you need more practice. I think once is enough," he moped. Okay, she thought, so he did kiss her . . .

"Yoomi," her manager shouted from outside. "It's time for the filming!"

Yoomi yelled back, "Okay! I'll be right there!" She gave Jaejoong a frightening frown, and then left for work with a door slam. After all, reputation and responsibility were more important than personal feelings or preferences. Plus, Jaejoong had stolen her precious kiss. What more could she lose? She already lost to a pale, impetuous guy, who now that she thought of it reminded her of a naked mole rat with his hairless arm and most likely hairless legs and chest.

Her manager's hand pushed her body forward as the two walked, "I'm glad you've come to your senses. Did you know how much time and effort I wasted to try to get this director to film your music video?" Yoomi disregarded her manager's remarks and just let out a broad, intimidating smile. "What's so funny? You think I'm joking?" her manager growled.

"Oh, no," Yoomi pointed out. "I was just thinking of . . . umm, what expression I should have during the kiss. That's all." With that being said, her manager became soundless. Sometimes, lies were necessary to prevent trouble. Yoomi's mind was already causing a calamity with all the vengeful schemes surfacing. One day, she too would say to him that appalling line: that wasn't hard.

For now, she had to go kiss a stranger.


	23. Chapter Twenty two

**Chapter 22: The Free Spirit Meets the Lonely Woman**

Yoochun always believed that loneliness was contagious, much like yawns. Thus, he avoided one-on-one meetings and instead preferred large parties. If the majority were happy, then his sadness would be insignificant and ineffective. Today, however, he just wanted to be alone. He had forgotten, though, that to a victim of loneliness, the best cure was to meet another sufferer.

As he headed out the entrance of the hotel for he could not bear to return to the dinner reception anymore, he noticed Junghwa outside, smoking. He remembered that she never drank nor smoked. It couldn't be her, he thought. She was the one that always bothered him about his drinking and his occasional smoking whenever she caught him during family gatherings. Ironically, he was the one that caught her. "J-Junghwa, what are you doing?" he hesitantly questioned. She had her back towards him, so he leaned forward to double check her identity.

She had turned her head around and with a lit cigarette in her fingers, she sullenly grinned, "Care for a smoke?"

Yoochun shook his head, "I've quit smoking for a few years now."

"And I've started when you quit," she joyfully giggled as she stretched her neck and shoulders.

"What happened to you?" Yoochun asked with great concern. Her sudden change in demeanour was shocking. Just a while ago, she was still calmly chatting with him, even encouraging him.

She inhaled the cigarette before answering, "Nothing much I can do about it. Say, do you have some money that I could borrow?"

"How much do you need?" his eyebrows furrowed.

Junghwa threw her finished cigarette to the ground and stepped on it with her heels. "How much are you willing to give?"

"What is this for?" he demanded. Her erratic behaviour was beginning to frighten him and to make him question whether people could change so much. He should have known that nothing would remain the same, besides non biodegradable products. There was no test with time. Time always won.

She bit her lower lip and rashly answered, "Forget it. You're just like them, unwilling to help." She shook her head in dismay for she always thought Yoochun was the sort to help unconditionally.

He agitatedly regurgitated, "Why can't you tell me why you suddenly need money? I don't ever think you were in debt."

"I need money to live. Good enough?" she scoffed at his innocence. He hadn't experienced a life of hardship and poverty, so he would never understand what it was like for her to face each day.

Seeing her desperation, he decided to yield to her wish, "How much do you need?"

"Just lend me 3,000 for now," she quickly enlightened. "I promise I'll give it back." Yoochun then took out his cheque book and wrote down the sum that she had requested. "Thanks," she muttered and took handed her cell phone to him, "Add your number. I'll give you a call once I have everything set." He hesitantly inputted his cell phone number; he didn't like waiting for an answer. He honestly believed that fate loved to make him wait, to test his patience. Once he had passed this test, though, what was to come? More waiting? He hoped not. He wanted for once for someone to be the one that lingered. A reversal of roles. That would be nice, he thought.


	24. Chapter Twenty three

**Chapter 23: The Leader Experiences the Oddest Date.**

When Yunho suggested that the two experience each other's idea of the perfect date, he never expected himself to be at home, reading manga and manhwa with Jihyun. She had brought her vast collection of manga, which was stored in a black, over-sized luggage. The books were stacked neatly, and were even sorted by genre. "So, what would you like to tackle?" Jihyun's arms were nicely placed on her waist. Yunho, at that time, felt electrocuted; it was almost as bad as someone claiming to be his son, not that that ever happened. "Why don't we start with romance then? I have this shoujo manga that I want you to translate. I think your mom mentioned something about your being fluent in Japanese?"

"W-w-wait a minute," he had to regain his senses. "What's going on?"

She crossly addressed, "Well, you're the one that suggested we experience our ideal dates with each other."

"But, but, but . . ." he had no idea how to craft his sentence. This was not what he would ever imagine a date to be. This never even happened in romantic comedies. Where was the romance? Where was his candlelight dinner? Most importantly, where was his sweet girl with whom he should have fallen head over heels? Instead, he had to be shocked to the point where his intelligence drastically decreased.

"But what?" she argued in a discouraged manner. "You're not even a man of your words? And to think I thought you at least had the . . . Please excuse my foul language, but I thought you had the testicles to try something new. But no, you're just like all those donkeys, stubborn like hell!"

Yunho did not enjoy or tolerate anyone questioning his manhood. He was definitely a man of his words; his father had taught him much about responsibility, particularly in the area of keeping promises. He also did not have much to argue. He did agree that he would play along with her date. "Okay," he reluctantly mumbled. "Pass me that manga."

"Sweet!" she enthusiastically applauded and hurriedly sprinted to fetch a set with approximately 8 volumes in total of manga. "Here you go!" she handed him the first volume. "There aren't any translators yet for any of the languages that I know, so go ahead and please translate them for me! I've been dying to read them!"

Seeing her anticipation, Yunho more willingly said, "Alright. I'll translate page by page." Yunho then sat on his favourite couch in the living room and turned to the first page.

She happily skipped towards him and took a spot to his right, taking full advantage of reading from right to left. "You're awesome!" she vibrantly smiled and pressed the book downwards. "There, now we can both see!" Yunho couldn't help imitating her smile. He never knew manga could bring such joy to people.

"Okay, so the girl called Ayaka is a new student and she . . ." Yunho had already begun to translate.

By the time, he was at mid-way through the seventh volume, he felt like exploding in frustration. It was not because of his dry throat after all his speaking. It was also not because of the constant questions that Jihyun posed, which basically all carried the message: "So, what happened next?" It was because the protagonist of the manga, Ayaka, had decided to be with the boy, who treated her with the most disrespect and frequently made her cry. Yunho was clearly the supporter of the childhood friend, Hiro, who was always by Ayaka's side and comforted her whenever the jerk hurt her. Yunho refused to refer to the jerk by a name, so during his translation, he always emphasized on the word, jerk.

"I can't stand this anymore!" He savagely tossed the manga to the ground. "Why would she choose the jerk? What's up with girls having fetishes for jerks?"

She managed to catch it before it completely fell to the ground. "Hey!" she glared. "Don't you dare hurt my book! And to answer your question, I think it's because the jerk was her ideal guy. I mean, who knew her ideal guy turned out to be a jerk?"

"So? Hiro was the one that was there for her!" Yunho furiously disputed as he stood up in anger.

Jihyun lightly pushed him back onto the couch. "Calm down," she started to chuckle. "It's just a piece of work. Anyways, I think I can understand why she picked the jerk. She had liked him for such a long time that she had only focused on her vision of him being the ideal guy. I mean, I agree that she and Hiro are practically meant for each other, but . . ."

Yunho's face was fixated on sternness, "But?"

Jihyun knew that no matter what type of explanation she had, Yunho was probably going to reject it. His piercing eyes made her think that way, and so, she carefully and slowly enlightened, "The guy of her dreams finally accepted her. She wanted to seize . . . that dream guy. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Simultaneously pouting his lips and swaying his head side to side, Yunho childishly grumbled, "Hell no. She's still stupid to me." He rose from his seat and proceeded to leave the living room.

Before he could go any further, Jihyun yapped, "Hey! Where are you going? You're not done translating and how can you just leave a girl here? Haven't you learned anything from reading this manga?"

Yunho pivoted and ruthlessly criticized, "Well, Hiro did wait for her, but guess what she did? She still went for the jerk and d-don't tell me you'd choose the jerk too." He was expecting her to agree; he always felt girls were attracted to bad boys.

"No, silly. I'd choose the guy that waited, the one that's there for me," she corrected. "I doubt that I'd ever have this dilemma though."

He could sense the disappointment in her tone. He had forgotten how simple it was to inflict sadness onto someone. He went back to the living room and before sitting down again, he gently patted the top of her head. "Hey, hey, don't be discouraged now. You'll get your chance one day," Yunho's voice reverted to his normal quality, gentle with a touch of hoarseness. "Come on, let's forget about this stupid manga. Say, aren't you hungry?"

She abruptly sat upright with her eyes widening to the size of golf balls. "To tell you the truth, I was hungry ever since the clock hit 4:30. I usually have dinner around that time!" she animatedly informed.

"You eat too early. I don't think restaurants are open that early for dinner," Yunho casually scolded.

Slightly irritated with his remark, she bolted, "I have my ways!"

"At least now's the right time for dinner," he checked his Citizen watch. "You should treat me to some ramen." He felt he deserved the reward. After all, he had been acting as a translator all this time . . . free of charge. He rarely performed favours without some type of reward in sight unless his actions were for charitable causes. Emotional dependency was not what he was after for friendships.

"Why should I treat you? Shouldn't it be the other way around?" she folded her arms in displeasure.

"I did waste many hours translating this for you," he argued what he felt he deserved. Rewards were supposed to follow after hours of hard work.

She, on the other hand, did not believe in handing him his prize. After all, he had refused to translate what she wanted the most, the ending. "Yet you refuse to translate the ending. Some type of translator I have," she continued to reason.

Feeling slightly irresponsible for his actions, he resentfully gave in, "Fine! I'll finish the job. First, ramen." Yunho checked his pockets for his essentials: wallet, car keys, and cell phone. Knowing that they were all there, he already got up and swiftly strolled to the front entrance, leaving Jihyun rather stunned.

"So, I'm actually paying?" she finally asked when his head shifted to verify her whereabouts. Yunho noticed that vexation planted on her face. Her hands were also pressed on her cheeks, flawlessly expressing her awe.

He scoffed once before caving in, "Alright, alright. Stop guilt-tripping me! I'll pay for all the meals we have together okay?"

"Yay!"she readily expressed her uplifted spirits as she hopped off of the couch and trailed behind him. "Now I can enjoy my food without feeling really, really awful."

"And people say that I'm cheap," he inaudibly moped and opened the door for her.

"Pardon me?" she prodded his arm with her index finger.

He looked downwards at her and simply uttered, "Nothing."

As he walked towards the garage and she followed, she suddenly stopped to shout, "Liar, liar pants on fire!"

He tagged along with her halt and taunted, "And do you know what follows afterwards?"

"Nope," she said.

He jeered, "Man, you suck at these. It's liar liar pants on fire. Hanging on a telephone wire!" For some reason, he took pride in correcting her errors. It was rather amusing seeing her struggle to win his arguments.

"Well," she stridently appealed while she continued to follow his steps. "Do you know the origin of this saying?"

"No, who would know that?" he snickered and then pressed the button on his keys to open the garage door.

"Me!" she raised her hand. "Me!"

Unlocking his car with the same remote, he remarked, "I don't get how your parents stand you."

"They don't. That's why I'm here in Seoul!" she raced to the passenger's seat. "Just kidding! I don't show that side of me to my parents. They already think I'm semi-crazy."

"Stop saying that you're crazy. You're not crazy," he properly reminded. "You're just different, in a refreshing way." He started the engine and exited the garage.

After putting her seatbelt on, she replied, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was," he verified.

"Then, thank you, Yunho," she sincerely thanked. "You're nicer than I thought you'd be. Did anyone tell you that you look quite intimidating if you're not smiling?"

"No,"

"Well, I just did." she added. "Don't take it the wrong way. It's not a bad thing!"

Following a right turn, he rebutted, "Did anyone tell you that you switch topics really quickly and that you talk a lot?"

"No, but I know that I do those things," she carelessly acknowledged.

"I'm glad you admit to your habits," he gave another compliment.

Jihyun good-humoredly concluded, "But I won't change."

"A hardcore addict, I see," he noticed.

"People get used to my way of talking, and if they don't, it's their loss," she pointed out. "Also, I don't change for other people. They change for me."

"No wonder you said you'd never face that dilemma, having to choose between two guys. Finding one is already hard enough!" he joked too heedlessly.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're an asshole?" she glared at him. As soon as he shook his head, she added, "Good, because I just did."

After changing lanes, he grumbled, "I'm sorry alright? I shouldn't have said that joke."

"It doesn't even count as a joke if it's not funny," she disputed with much irritation.

Yunho sighed before adjusting his statement, "Alright, I shouldn't have said that comment."

"It's too late you already said it," she puffed her cheeks once.

For some reason, Yunho didn't want her sulking. Perhaps, he was too kind and also too responsible. He thus offered, "How about I translate another series? Would that be better? I'll also finish up volume 8 after dinner."

"Really?" she almost jumped up from her seat. Her eyes widely gazed into his, looking for a concrete answer. Showing his approval, he swiftly nodded. "Awesome!" she raised both of her fists in sheer joy.

Although it seemed as if she had forgotten their original argument, Yunho still decided to say, "Yeah Jihyun."

"Mhm?" she was looking out the window now.

There was a moment of stillness prior to his remark, "I'll try to think before I act."

Again, the silence persisted, making him unsure of what he had said. Did he make her recall why she was frustrated in the first place? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her still staring at the outside world. He was tempted to ask what was so interesting out there, but he stayed hushed. After he had finished parking the car and was about to unbuckle his seatbelt, she tugged at his sleeve and firmly proclaimed, "Don't do that. You don't have to . . . change for me. If you do . . ."

"Yeah?" he softly asked.

She glanced at him, and then concluded, "Nothing." She then unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door. Yunho, on the other hand, was still puzzled by her statement. Seeing his stillness, she quickly reminded him, "Aren't you coming out?"

Even though he listened to her and got out of the car, he still remembered a particular phrase that she had used on him: _liar liar, pants on fire._


	25. Chapter Twenty four

**Chapter 24: The Mom Has a Nightmare.**

It was the most suitable moment for Yoomi to seek revenge against Jaejoong, who was completely unaware of his surroundings for he was sleeping. Just as she was about to approach him after the filming, she had noticed his vulnerable position: eyes closed and accentuated with dark, heavy eye bags, legs extended straightly, arms folded across his chest with a juice bottle in the centre, mouth slightly open, and head leaning on one side, almost hanging from the bench. He looked innocent and for the first time, she felt he was tamed. She believed that people shouldn't take advantage of those that were resting, and so she crouched beside him, waiting for him to awaken. She quietly chuckled to herself. Wasn't the prince supposed to wait for the sleeping beauty? Why did every traditional act seem to be reversed when she was with him?

For a while, she observed his sleeping body, the way he breathed through his nose and then out from his mouth, and the occasional licks from his tongue to stop himself from drooling. She, too, felt fatigue, yet she still waited. She needed to repay him.

Suddenly, he sat right up and screamed, "Argh, stop b*tching about your boyfriend!"

His unexpected shout petrified her, even almost causing her to squeal, but what had stopped her from screaming was his hand, which had accidentally whacked her head and part of her shoulder. Moreover, that bottle of juice had landed right on her thigh. So instead of expressing fear, she complained as she rubbed her injuries, "Ouch."

"Thank god it's you," he loudly announced. That meant that he was only having a nightmare.

He hadn't noticed her agonizing pain until she repeated, "Ouch, ouch, ouch."

"You okay?" he at last remembered to ask.

"I think I must be very unlucky," she grumbled and eyed him.

Experiencing some guilt, Jaejoong reached for the dropped juice bottle and handed it to her, "Good job for completing your first music video." She, at first, gawked at him, wondering what had made him so friendly. This must be some trick, she thought. It had to be. When had Jaejoong been courteous to her? Jaejoong knew what was passing through her feeble mind. He wondered why people had trouble trusting others. Gifts were gifts for a reason. "It's unopened. You can twist the cap to check," he added with annoyance.

Even though she accepted his present, she still felt unsteady. How could someone be so grumpy and then be so kind? It had to be another sign of PMS, she noted. "Thanks, I suppose," she finally uncapped the drink and took a sip. "Not bad."

"When has my taste been bad?" Jaejoong arrogantly retorted. No one dared to question his immaculate taste for beauty and food. He was always right for these topics, almost always right.

"Well, some girl was 'b*tching to you about her boyfriend'," she carefully quoted and even used her fingers to act as quotation marks. "Hehe, thinking about girls when you're sleeping," she remembered to insert.

"What?" he pensively looked at her until he remembered his nightmare. "Oh . . . that. That was just a bad dream, a dream I had about work, which actually happened."

"So what exactly happened?" she wondered and took a seat beside him.

Jaejoong's hands rubbed his face to fully awaken himself, "This girl kept crying about her boyfriend who supposedly lied to her, but you know what happens when girls cry?"

"What?"

"Their make-up falls off and guess who has to clean up after her? Me!" he beat his chest once in fury. "Guess what else happens when girls cry?"

"What?" she repeated. She honestly could not answer Jaejoong's questions. Who knew what an eccentric guy was thinking about?

"Their tears mixed with makeup ruin their clothes," he gestured the action of crying with his index finger gliding down his cheek.

"Wow, I'm impressed," Yoomi sarcastically giggled. "Normal people have nightmares about spiders and killers, but you, you have nightmares about client disasters."

Jaejoong gave a glare before complaining, "My life is practically a nightmare. No, actually, it's more like rollercoaster. Up and down. Up and down. Right now, it's phewww…..wham! I'm dead! I'm dead!" He had thrashed his arms, which followed his words.

Unable to respond properly, she could only utter, "Umm . . . I think I know how you feel?"

It was too apparent that she had no idea what he was saying. He too knew that there were only a few that understood his descriptions and sadly, she did not. Why did he even bother trying? However, he could not stop himself from sharing his concerns. How would anyone know the reason for his emotions if he kept them hidden?

For a while, the two just sat beside each other, acting as strangers. She became preoccupied with finishing the drink in as many polite gulps as possible. It was delicious, but warm. The warmness of the bottle only made her wonder how long he had been guarding this drink during his sleep. "I'm just stressed," he managed to say.

Before she pressed her lips to finish the last drop of juice, she furtively made eye contact with him and then gallantly affirmed, "Now, I understand."

He just smiled, knowing that his reason had been uncovered and interpreted. All he needed was a simple phrase, but even that, was complex. Often, the simplest tasks were the hardest. He was willing, however, to attempt and to master concision.

That was why he bothered trying, that being the look from her eyes, the look of finally understanding.


	26. Chapter Twenty five

**Chapter 25: Dangerous Affection. **

Changmin was never afraid of much, such as tests, interviews, horror films, insects, and animals, but when Nayoung asked him to meet her during her spare, the last block of school, he was nervous, nearing fear. He had to, however, agree to her terms. This was altruism, he believed. He had never felt so heroic and so unselfish in his life. He bet that he was probably the reincarnation of some important political figure during some point in his life cycle. Before he could figure out who he was in the past, it was already time for him to face her, Nayoung.

He hesitantly knocked on her classroom's door, "It's me."

She welcomed him with a shout, "Come in, Changmin!"

He entered steadily with rather heavy footsteps. This was it, he thought. This was the start of an unruly game, a game without written rules. There was one rule he had though and that was never to fall in love with the opponent. Games were easy to win without emotions and were hard to win without manipulating the rival's emotions. "So, what would you like me to do?" Changmin obediently asked once he took the seat that was closest to her desk at the end of the classroom.

Nayoung, who was sitting cross-legged in her leather chair, arose and casually paced towards him, making sure to stop right in front of him. "Kiss me," she mouthed with her cherry-coloured lips.

He sported an insidious smile before he snatched her hand and kissed it. When she menacingly frowned at him, he immediately answered, "You never said where you wanted me to kiss you." He absolutely enjoyed prodding at the pot holes that people often made in their sentences. He especially loved the looks that they gave him. Most people frowned and rarely, a few laughed. She was like most then, which would mean that it would be easy to manage this deal. He then grinned again. Why was he even worrying in the first place?

"Then," she indifferently suggested. "Kiss me on the lips."

"Anything for you," he coyly agreed. Without much faltering, he leaned his head forward and then pressed his lips on hers. Seconds later, he pulled away and sheepishly smirked, "Not what you wanted? Well, you didn't tell me how you wanted me to kiss you."

It would be a lie to say that Nayoung was completely unruffled by Changmin's actions. Although she was prepared for the worst that he had to offer, he was still able to startle her. Sure, he did demonstrate compliance, but with every smile that he shared, she knew that he was a rebel, a clandestine radical. Now that she understood his tactics, she was prepared to attack. Assess then attack.

Impatiently waiting for her response, Changmin sank in the chair and extended his legs outwards. She took this opportunity to grip onto his tie and to lug it, along with his body, towards her. Her lips firmly planted on his, prying his mouth to open. Naturally, he followed the flow of her kiss, entwining his tongue with hers until he felt he had reciprocated her passion. Then, he strategically bit her tongue right when it was on top of his.

Choking in pain and in saliva, she directly backed away and contorted, "What are you doing?"

"Oops," he coolly noted. "I must be too clumsy." He had purposely scratched his head and looked downward, demonstrating his bashfulness.

She helplessly asked, "Must you be like this?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I think I'm the one that should say that," he sat upright. "Mhm, let me repeat that. Must YOU be like this?" His finger had directly pointed at her as he posed that question to her. Guilty as charged, he thought. Nayoung edgily grabbed onto the collar of his dress shirt, which prompted him to say, "Slap me. I dare you to."

Unlike Changmin, Nayoung had to plan everything ahead of time, considering all the possibilities before making her endeavour. Spontaneity was strenuous and was most likely to give her ulcers. "Why should I give what you wish?" she intrepidly challenged his request.

He was happy she attempted to argue because that way, he could inflict more damage on her statements. "Because you can't beat me," he sneered.

Why was it that every time she tried, she failed? His words hurt, assaulting the utmost protected insecurity of hers. Feeling her throat ache, she knew she was about to disintegrate and cry. Defeat once again. She cried not for him, but she cried for all her failures, for everything that mattered.

She was about to rub her eyes when Changmin gently comforted, "Aww, don't cry." He stood up, marched to her side, and forcefully embraced her. Force was not of issue here. To her, it was comfort. Perhaps, her efforts were not wasted. There was hope when there was a gesture of returned kindness or affection. She then latched her arms around him and to which, he whispered, "That's what you'd want me to say right?"

" you!" she roared after pushing him away and hastily wiped away the remaining tears from her eyes.

He merrily chuckled, "Oh darling, I don't like girls that swear. You do want me to like you right?"

" you. your mother. everything related to you!" she rashly hollered. She could not stand his attitude anymore. This was her limit for him.

She was angry, angry at herself and at him, so she grasped his collar again and gritted her teeth. "Ah, so you do solve everything with violence?" he cheerfully verified.

Upon hearing his remark, she loosened her grip. Fresh tears were sprinkling on her cheeks as she devastatingly uttered, "You've c-changed . . . too much and now . . . you're always like this."

"Tell me something new, honey bunny," his voice echoed in the classroom.

The bell then rang and following that, the classroom door slid open.

And then there were two.

Junsu and Miyun.


	27. Chapter Twenty six

**Chapter 26: The Leader Suggests to The Queen of Spontaneity his Perfect Date and The Free Spirit Plays Detective.**

How long had Yunho been waiting for the perfect date? He had meticulously and thoughtfully planned out this day. He practically had a schedule of events precisely memorized. Moreover, the night before, he had rehearsed aloud the order of activities. This would happen, and then that, and then this, and then a bit of that . . . Who would have thought that the first order task had already been wrong? This was all thanks to Jihyun.

"Are you kidding me?" Jihyun barked at him in the passenger seat of his car. She had a look of fear mixed with anxiety, the complete opposite of what he had expected. Now, what did Yunho say to cause such a reaction?

Yunho coolly repeated his statement, "We're going on a hike."

"No way!" she impetuously complained. "Do you see what I'm wearing? A dress, a sundress!" She pulled at the sides of her outfit to further prove her point.

"W-well," he hesitantly argued. "You could . . . still hike in that."

Jihyun rolled her eyes and folded her arms, "I'm not doing it."

He gently urged, "But, we tried your date."

"And that was indoors," she immediately shot back. "I, Jihyun, hate . . . no, let me rephrase that. I, Lee Jihyun, bloody hate extreme outdoor activities. ESPECIALLY when I'm unprepared for them."

"W-well I seemed to have f-f—"

"Forgotten?" she hastily added. "Forgotten to inform me of the dress code?"

He uneasily bit his lips. He had thought of everything, yet he had missed that point. It was that one detail that already ruined his plans. Suddenly looking out the window, he realized that he could improvise. They were close to the perfect location for her garment and that was the beach. He could just test his luck and her tolerance level. If both were compatible, then his ideal date, now with a twist, could work. This would be called, Ideal Date Version 1.1. Now that would be satisfaction. "You know we could go to the beach," he lightly suggested. "I mean, your clothing is suitable and you even have sandal-like shoes on."

"Gladiators, you mean," she corrected first and then posed a series of questions. "True, but I'm still unprepared. Where's my sun screen? Where's my large hat? Where are my beach towels?"

He scratched his chin as he attempted to answer all of her questions, "I have sun screen in my car. Hat . . . you can borrow the baseball cap I'm wearing. Beach towels . . . do you have to sit?"

"Oh! What do you expect me to do then? Frolic on the sand all day while we play tag . . .no 'catch me if you can'?" she bombarded with great ferocity. Unfortunately for Yunho, those were precisely what he had in mind for a date on the beach. They were loving gestures showcased by romantic comedies. Wasn't life supposed to imitate art or was it art supposed to imitate life? If the latter were true, how come he had never seen this scene occur in movies? His companion was supposed to work with him, not against him. No, she wasn't rebelling. She was . . . just being herself, Jihyun, again. So, Yunho just remained silent, completely embarrassed that his idealized thoughts were being probed and criticized.

Jihyun, on the other hand, detected his mortification from his apple-red cheeks. Feeling culpable of her harshness, she reluctantly succumbed to his wish, "Alright . . . let's go . . . to the beach, but I won't play cat and mouse. You know that chasing after each other business. And, I must have your hat at all times."

"Awesome!" he extended his right hand for a high-five. She, however, ignored him and still kept her arms crossed. Seeing her cold reaction, he lugged her arm towards him and pressed his palm to hers. "Now, that's a high-five," he educated her.

"Just focus on your driving," she sternly advised. She despised how she decided to follow his idea even when she was opposed to it. Where were her principles? Why wasn't she listening to her gut feeling? She did not know why, but she just knew that this date was not going to turn out fine. Nothing was ever fine for her when it was related to wilderness. She was a city girl, and that was all.

* * *

Was what one saw always true? Yoochun couldn't help wondering that question after he went home that night, after he saw and met her there. There, was nowhere close to home. It was where parents would ban their kids from visiting or even entering. The gentlemen's club, a euphemism for strip club.

Where to begin then, Yoochun thought. He had to piece the bits of clues to form the true portrait. There had to be a reason for every action and for her, it must have been out of desperation, her desperateness for survival. Then, he sighed; this time not for himself, but for her. Pity.

Yoochun first noticed her walking down the street, ahead of him. He had left the bar earlier to wake up for tomorrow's meeting. Usually, he parked in the bar's reserved parking, but this time, the lot was full. Thus, he was forced to park three blocks away, which placed him closer to the infamous street of adult entertainment. That street had most men's weakness: beautiful women.

Although he had never gone into any of those stores, he had definitely heard of his co-workers' stories. Some of them enjoyed visiting the hostess' club or the gentlemen's club. It was their form of stress relief. He, on the other hand, still believed in alcohol, specifically wine. It was, therefore, merely a coincidence that he happened to be around that area and that he happened to meet her.

At first, he recognized her from the back, yet he did not greet her. He was still a bit unsure, especially since it was highly unlikely of her to be walking down that street. Trusting his instincts, he still followed her. He needed to confirm, or else he would always wonder.

As he trailed behind her, he noticed her provocative clothing. She was dressed in a short, sequined black dress that clung onto her body to highlight her hourglass figure and black high heels. He felt a bit guilty, examining her like that. He was, however, mostly astonished by her style. This was definitely not what she used to wear. From what he remembered, she always wore pants, an over-sized shirt, and sneakers.

When she disappeared into a store, Yoochun almost walked too quickly and passed by the store. Thankfully, he noticed the ends of her long hair vanishing into the suspicious place. Looking up to see the large sign towering the store, he gulped. He read aloud, "The Gentlemen's Muses." A frightfully bad sign.

Pushing the door open, Yoochun was immediately greeted by a male host at the reception table. "Welcome to The Gentlemen's Muses. Table for one?" the slender, polite man asked.

"Yes," Yoochun worriedly answered.

"Follow me then," the man instructed and swiftly escorted Yoochun to a dimly lit room. In the centre of the room was a round-shaped platform with a metal pole extending from the wall to the ground. Once Yoochun took a seat in the U-shaped couch, the host handed him a menu and asked, "So, which lady would you like to request?"

Opening the menu, he instantly recognized her photo, even with the heavy make-up and the blonde wig. "Her," he positioned his finger under her pseudonym, Siren.

"Ah, Siren," the man bowed. "Excellent choice, sir. She's very popular, one of our top muses." Then, he left to complete Yoochun's request.

The wait for Yoochun was almost unbearable. His speculation had been confirmed, and now, he was to confront her. Frankly, confrontation was not his form of communication. However, this time, he felt that it was necessary to expose the truth. He deserved to know. He lent her his money without a reason and he deserved one good reason.

Abruptly, the door opened and the woman wearing the same sequined dress professionally greeted with a bow, "Hello, I'm Siren." When she lifted her head, Yoochun could see the bewilderment in her eyes, yet moments later, she switched back to her composed attitude, "What would you like me to do for you, sir?"

"Just answer my question," he sternly demanded. "Why are you working here, Junghwa?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but my name is Siren," she calmly replied. "I also do not answer personal questions. My job is to solely entertain you."

"What if I want answers?" he adamantly insisted.

Siren shook her head and sincerely apologized, "I'm afraid I can't give you any."

He stared at her with pity and frustration, "Why are you being like this, Junghwa? I just want to help."

"Then, don't come here anymore and forget about tonight," she modestly requested.

Realizing that she would never tell him the answer, he searched his pockets for his wallet and then emptied his wallet of cash. "Here you go," he walked to her and handed her the waft of cash. "Here's your tip, but know that I will get to the bottom of this. This . . . isn't right."

"Tell me then, what is right?" she asked after placing the bills in her pocket.

He shook his head in dismay, "Just don't earn money like this. It's disrespectful for your family." He couldn't understand why she picked this profession. She could have been a hostess, a waitress, or a sales lady. She, on the other hand, couldn't understand why people couldn't accept her situation. It wasn't as if she enjoyed this job.

"You don't know anything about me or my family!" she hollered and then adjusted her tone. "Good-bye sir. Your time is up."


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Chapter 27: A Delightful Congregation.**

Junsu again had arrived fifteen minutes before the class ended to pick up Nayoung. There was already someone at the classroom's door, a student with pigtails. When Junsu was about to open the door, she instantly stopped him by shouting, "Don't! M-Ms. Kang is busy. S-she told me not to disturb her until after school."

"I . . . suppose I'll just wait here then," he stood opposite to her and leaned his shoulder on the wall.

"Y-yeah," she held tightly onto a yellow folder.

Junsu felt impatient today as if he were about to implode. Seconds seemed like minutes and minutes resembled hours. So, he wasted his time by examining the student ahead of him. She appeared to be extremely shy. She was most likely prone to nervousness; he could tell by the way she gripped that folder, pressured and pressed close to her chest. "How long have you been waiting here?" Junsu decided to ask. A conversation would be a good method of passing time.

"About 15 minutes now," she checked her Casio watch before she responded.

"I see," he mumbled. "So . . . how's school?" Even Junsu felt weird to be asking a stranger questions, but what else was there to do?

She awkwardly said, "Ugh . . . it's fine. I m-mean, there's homework, but I'm f-fine with that."

"What about your friends?" Junsu pressed on. He had expected high school students these days to be hanging out with their friends and joking around. At least that's how he spent high school. She, however, just shyly smiled. Poor girl, he instantly thought. She was that type: a loner. That meant some stereotypes in high school stayed true. "I'm sure you'll make some friends soon," he settled on saying. "You just have to talk more, you know, lighten up." She, however, just repeated that smile and he knew that he had spoken the wrong words. He was never an expert at therapy; he was only an expert at comedy. "You know, when I was your age, I was always known as the goof-ball," he attempted to comfort her. "No one really took me seriously. Heck, even the girls just laughed at my jokes."

"Well, you have Ms. Kang, now," she oddly became the one to offer encouragement and showed that generic smile. Junsu wanted to request for her to stop smiling. It was hard seeing her forced expression for it reminded him of Nayoung's disappointment.

He too politely grinned, "Yes, I'm lucky to have her."

Then, the bell rang and he automatically opened the door, holding it for the student.

Inside the classroom, Junsu and the girl saw the two, Changmin and Nayoung. This situation would not have been awkward if Nayoung were not in tears and Changmin were not smiling. "Changmin," Junsu immediately rushed towards the teary Nayoung. "What did you do?"

"Oh, Junsu," she leapt to bury herself in his arms.

"Oh," Changmin imitated her tone. "Cut out the act."

Junsu, with beady eyes, scornfully addressed, "I know you don't get along with her, but why are you like this, man?"

Nayoung quickly placed her hand on Junsu's chest to alleviate his anger, "Babe, it's alright if he doesn't approve of me as your girlfriend. The important thing is that . . . I have you."

Junsu then held tightly onto her weak hand, feeling the urge to protect her at all costs, "Are you sure it's alright?" She timidly nodded, revealing her childlike eyes. "Alright, then," he firmly threatened. "Changmin, if you ever make her cry again, I may possibly . . . give you a hell of a beating."

Cocking his head, Changmin arrogantly provoked, "Go ahead, do yourself a favour and get it over with now."

"You haven't grown up, you know that?" Junsu shook his head in disappointment. Then again, what was there to expect for Changmin? Sometimes, he thought, their expectations were too high for Changmin.

"I'm glad you finally noticed, Junsu," Changmin sarcastically heckled. Even Junsu had boundaries and Changmin happened to have crossed those boundaries. Sometimes, even peaceful people resorted to violence, and so Junsu threw a punch at Changmin.

Luckily, Nayoung intercepted and stretched her arms out to protect Changmin. "Don't!" she shrieked. "Don't hit him!"

When Junsu saw the startled look in her eyes, his fist instantly softened its grip and withered to his side. "If that's what you want . . ." his voice was draining and fading to despair. "Then, I'll give you what you want." He knew that this was her demand. From the tone of her voice, he was sure. He glanced at her once more and then commenced to walk away. He always thought that he was on her side and that she would support his, yet he already had inkling that, maybe, she could not stand by him at all times. At a time such as this, she chose to defend his friend. She didn't even call out his name. Frustrated with how this relationship was acting, he sped up his footsteps and by the time, she shifted her focus to him, he was already out the door.

He was leaving her. Nayoung felt that message and her tears began to fall again. Then, she chased after him, hoping that he would receive her message. She wanted him to stay.

Once the couple disappeared, Changmin noticed her, Miyun, staring at him in disbelief. "How could you?" Miyun harshly asked.

She had seen everything then, he thought. "You don't know anything," Changmin furiously rebutted. "So, don't you go around spreading rumours because if you do, I will spread one of yours."

"What of mine?" she fiercely muttered.

"You're Minho's step sister," he indifferently declared. If Minho had never informed him of this, then this must have been a devastating secret.

Miyun scornfully chuckled before saying, "Mr. Shim, go ahead and tell people about this. It's not as if I'm the one that's doing something wrong here."

"Like I said," he inched towards her, staring down at her with much authority. "You . . . don't know anything."

She then laughed again, "You don't know anything either, Mr. Shim. I was never going to tell anyone this. I don't want to hurt your friend."

Changmin sighed, "I don't want to hurt him either."


	29. Chapter Twenty eight

**Chapter 28: The Leader's Ideal Date Version 1.1**

After much preparation, which included putting on sunscreen, adjusting Yunho's cap, and fixing her jacket, Jihyun stepped out of the car and strolled towards Yunho, who was now sitting on the sand, watching the waves wash in and out. Seeing his vulnerable state, she decided now to surprise him. She made sure that the sound of her footsteps was masked by the waves' crashes and slowly approached him from behind. As she imagined the soundtrack of _Jaws _playing while advancing towards her prey, she couldn't resist silently chuckling. Thus, she had to cover her mouth and hold onto her stomach until the right moment.

Then, she pounced. "Boo!" she roared and threw her arms around his neck.

"Holy crap!" he yelled as he turned to look at the culprit. "Geez, don't scare me like that!"

She burst out laughing and placed her hands to her hips, "I love surprising people! Don't be freaked out if I suddenly call out your name one day. I tend to do that to my dog."

"Your poor dog," he relieved a sigh and then stood up. "Well, now that you're ready, let's try out my ideas!"

"Fine," her mood diminished to sourness.

He frowned, "Don't pout your lips like that. I had to put up with translations. Alright, so let's go the waters."

Her eyes widened, "You've got to be kidding me! Did you not understand what I meant when I said I was wearing a sundress?"

"It's okay to get a little wet," he argued. "You said you'd follow my plans." He too was pouting his lips, hoping to garner her sympathy.

Witnessing his childish act, she again unwillingly agreed, "All right, all right. Don't give me that look ever again. It makes you look like a prick, not that you aren't already." She lightheartedly stuck out her tongue and commenced her walk to the sea. She could already picture the aftermath of dipping her toes in the ocean: saltiness and stickiness. She was so close to touching the water before she suddenly realized and turned to pose her worry, "Where do I put my shoes?" She lifted a leg to show him her coveted piece.

"I put mine over there," he pointed to the dark speck in the sand. "You can put them next to mine."

"What if someone steals them?" she worriedly voiced her concern.

He took a deep breath before listing, "First of all, there's no one here, except for us, and two, I doubt people will wear your size."

"I have a perfectly normal size," she chirped. "Size 6!"

He sighed, "Can we not worry about thieves?"

"Oh! You never know when you'll meet a shoe-napper!" her feet were firmly planted in the sand.

"A shoe what?"

"A shoe-napper. A shoe kidnapper," she enlightened. Then, he bent down and proceeded to unzip the zipper to her gladiators. "What are you doing, you pervert?"

He shrugged, "I'm just making my job easier."

"Ugh, fine. I'll take it off myself." He turned his head and smirked, making sure she did not see his expression. Who knew what would happen if she saw his triumphant look? Sadly, she caught him. "Wipe that ugly smile off of your face. Just because I took off my shoes doesn't mean that you've won! Now, I owe you a slap."

"What?"

"You know, I should create a slap list. Whenever you do something I absolutely hate, you'll get a slap," she proudly explained.

His eyebrows furrowed, "And why should I let you do that?"

"Because you owe me big time," she cautiously reminded. "I could always call your parents and tell them that—"

He interjected, "All right, all right."

"Good. Now, where do I put these shoes again?"

"Over there," he pointed to his shoes.

When Jihyun came back, shoeless, Yunho felt that he could finally commence his plans. He began with a splash, a disastrous one. He splashed at her, thinking that she would good-humoredly splash back with little spatters of water. Instead, she first looked down at her soaked dress and screamed, "AHHHHHH!" Then, she tackled him, pushing him down into the ocean. He fell in backwards, caught by surprise.

Yunho almost choked on sea water before pulling himself out. "What was that for?" he spat out the remaining liquid lodged in his throat.

"W-well," she stuttered with discomfiture. "You ruined my dress." It was too late to feel guilty, she thought. What had been done had been done.

Folding his arms and walking towards the car, he comforted himself, "At least, I have a pair of sweats and a jacket in the trunk."

"I-I'm sorry," she managed to utter once they reached the car. "I j-just get really protective over my clothing."

"Yeah, I noticed," he glared. "And I now know that the outdoors does not work with you." Then, he took off his shirt, which caused Jihyun to shield her eyes. He laughed at her reaction, and quickly zipped up the jacket. "Hey, I suggest you turn around now. I doubt you want to see me take off my pants," he lightly joked. She instantly obeyed and he laughed at her sudden submission. She had never been so cooperative. "Alright, you can turn around now," he could still see her standing still.

She widely smiled for she had never been so pleased to find him clothed. "So, what do you want to do next?" she kindly suggested.

"Why don't we watch the sunset?" he requested after seeing the sun starting to set. Then, he marched to the area where they had placed their shoes and plotted his bottom on the sand. "Sit here," he patted the sand, beckoning her to follow.

She did listen to him, yet once she reached her shoes, she still stood there and muttered, "I-I can't."

With much perplexity, he asked, "Why not?"

"B-because it'll ruin my dress," she tentatively replied, knowing that he would probably roll his eyes at her. She still couldn't lie though; that would be against her principles.

Yunho honestly did not know how to respond. He had never met someone who most likely cared more about her clothes than about people. He lifted his head upwards to read her expression. So, she still had a conscience, he thought after seeing her faintly flustered cheeks. "Here," he soothingly proposed as he began to unzip his jacket. "Sit on my jacket then."

"No," she instinctively blurted.

He thought this was the best resolution, yet she was still unsatisfied. "Now what?" he edgily said.

"I can't hurt your jacket," she quickly answered.

"Well, what do you want to do? Sit on me?" he, out of the blue, recommended.

"Ew, no!" she accidentally exclaimed. Seeing Yunho's abrupt disappointment, she apologized, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's just . . . Ah, I don't know what I'm saying anymore." For a moment, they were both quiet and only the waves' hurtles resonated. Jihyun, at last, chimed, "I-I'll sit right here then." Her finger pointed to his thigh, and once he nodded, she gathered her dress and gently took a spot on his thighs.

"Ah," he teasingly complained. "You're heavier than you look!"

She had tried to put as little weight on him as possible, so she anxiously asked, "But, I recently lost a pound! Look, my shoulder blade is more prominent!" She showed him proof of her statement.

"Don't worry," he continued to taunt. "I'll train you! We'll go for runs."

"Are you serious?" she bit her lip.

He loudly chuckled, "No, I'm kidding."

"That's another slap for you," she grumbled and refused to make eye contact with him.

"Oh, come on," he moped. "It was just a joke!"

"Didn't I tell you that jokes were supposed to be funny? Where is my 'haha' then?" she folded her arms in disgruntlement.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he scratched his head and sighed.

"Sorry doesn't cut it when you've made the same mistake twice now," she persisted with her argument. He hauled her arm towards him, catching her in his arms and eventually hugging her. She, on the other hand, roared, "Who said you could hug me? Get off of—"

"I've mistaken," he soothingly proclaimed.

Yunho had no idea why he somehow always seemed to end up comforting her in his arms. Was this becoming a habit now? Was he starting to change for her? He did not know, but he did not mind. Although this date was not what he had in mind, he thought that everything had in some way turned out fine. It was nice like this, relaxing for his tired soul.

As for Jihyun, she had no idea why she somehow always seemed to let him comfort her in his arms. Truth be told, she was afraid, afraid that one day, she would become too accustomed to this tendency. Then, she would never change. She didn't think too much and then wrapped her arms around his back as she mumbled, "You're forgiven." It was then she knew that she was growing fond of his particular action, his embrace.

This had to stop, she thought. So, she backed away, stood up, and stretched her arms in the air. "I think we missed the sunset," she noted after seeing the darkened sky. "You know, I'm kind of hungry."

"D-did you happen to make like . . .food?" he gazed upwards to hopefully disintegrate his worry. He thought he had specifically told her to prepare a picnic for them.

Shaking her head, she murmured, "No. I thought . . .y-you said you'd take care of it? I mean, you asked, are you prepared for dinner?"

"I meant it as in, are you prepared for dinner," he varied his tone. "As in, did you make dinner?"

"Oh," she could only say.

Yunho shrugged while lifting himself off from the ground, "It's not a big deal. We'll just go to a restaurant."

Jihyun could tell from the way he walked away from her that it did matter to him. She knew that she had disappointed him and that she had made the mistake now. "Hey Yunho," she called out and dashed to his side. "Let's go back to your place. I'll make dinner!"

"W-whoah, whoah, say that again," he almost tripped on a pebble.

She unwillingly repeated, "I said, I'll make dinner. Don't expect anything fancy though. I only know how to make noodles, instant noodles."

"Fair enough," he agreed with a grin.

Perhaps, sometimes, all he needed was a compromise and all it took was for her to try.


	30. Chapter Twenty nine

**Chapter 29: The Child's First Fan Signing.**

One of the reasons for Jaejoong's success was that he always made sure that his client was more stunning than everyone else. One trick was to enforce a strict rule that ensured that the client's co-workers were all dressed in black. Another was to ask all female co-workers to wear as little make-up as possible. The last one was to make sure that he, himself, did not garner attention. So, for Yoomi's first fan signing, he dressed as plainly as he could and wore black sunglasses to cover his eyes, which he considered his favourite feature.

"I think I'm a genius," he chattered from behind, just as Yoomi took her seat in the centre of a long, glass table.

While smiling and waving to her fans, she bitterly asked, "Why is that?"

"Because my make-up and styling have done wonders," he passed her a bottle of water. "You actually look approachable."

"Gee, thanks," she acerbically said. "That's just the way to win over fans."

He purposely took a large make-up brush and pretended to waft more blush, "There, thank god for blush and foundation. You know, the goal is to make you seem naturally pretty and I quite frankly believe that I have succeeded."

"Good, good for you," she muttered. "Now, please stop coming over to comment on your abilities. The fans are coming."

Surprisingly, Jaejoong heeded to her request and stood behind her with an eminent posture, back straight, and hands by his sides. His eyes, however, wandered to Yoomi. She was assiduously shaking each fan's hand, attentively listening for each one's name, flawlessly signing her autograph, and even adding words of encouragement onto her photographs. His focus, instead, was on her arms. They were less flabby. He made his gesture of winning, a peace sign to himself; he knew that she had listened to him and exercised more. Good girl, he muttered to himself. He was always happy whenever his clients obeyed his demands. Cooperation, he believed, was another key to success.

It was inconceivable then to believe that an outsider would disturb success. There were security guards for a reason, but then again, nothing was ever perfect. Who would have expected a tomato to be thrown on stage and to land faultlessly on Yoomi's cheek? It happened just as she was lifting her head up from signing a sheet of paper. Splat went the tomato and then, she shrilled, "Ah!"

Jaejoong straight away dashed to Yoomi's side and stridently ordered, "Get her some tissue and an ice pack! Hurry!" She hesitantly touched her cheek, grazing the chunkiness of the squashed tomato bits. "You alright?" he apprehensively asked and kneeled down to examine her already swollen cheek. "Don't worry. I'll fix you up in no time."

"You don't have to do that. I mean, I'm oka—" She was cut off by another tomato flying towards the two.

This time, the tomato hit Jaejoong's jacket, causing him to become livid. Fulminating all of his anger, he screeched in the most strident manner, "You coward! Get your leotard ass out here! If you want a fight, bring it! Don't throw your fugly tomatoes at me or at her!"

He snatched the distorted tomato on the ground and was almost prepared to throw it at the audience when Yoomi pulled him back, "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"I need to throw this tomato," he glared at her, showing his temerity.

"No, you don't," she tugged at his sleeve. "If you're mad because your jacket is ruined, then I'll get you a new jacket. Just let this go. The just wants us to be mad."

Diminishing the vigor of his grip, Jaejoong surly intonated, "I'm not just mad at the person ruining my jacket. I'm also mad because that person ruined this." He pointed his finger at her injured cheek and used a tissue that was given to him by an assistant to wipe away the remains of the tomato on her face. Then, he snapped his fingers, signaling Yoomi's manager to come. "I think we need to take a few minutes to patch things up. Look at this," his finger traced around the reddened spot on her cheek. "This isn't good for the fans to see."

"Alright, I'll make an announcement," the manager concurred and proceeded to walk to the microphone.

Yoomi, however, rushed to the manager's side and suggested, "I'll make the announcement. I need my fans and the culprit to know that I'm strong. I'm stronger than I look." Her manager just nodded and let Yoomi have her way. Yoomi now held the microphone in her hands and bravely explained, "Hello fans! First of all, I really appreciate all of you coming here to my fan signing. Although we just experienced a bit of a setback with the tomato throwing, I assure you that I will still continue the fan signing. We just need a couple of minutes to clean the stage and for me to change. Please, to whoever, that is being disrespectful and throwing tomatoes on stage, please stop your actions. It is dangerous for everyone that is attending and we do not appreciate or tolerate that type of behaviour. Thank you." Then, Yoomi bowed and exited backstage.

"Hey, I have to say, that was some cool stuff you said up there," Jaejoong acknowledged as he paced beside her. "I honestly did not know you had it in you."

"Thanks, I suppose," she faintly grinned and then sat in an empty seat with Jaejoong quickly following behind. Everything had happened too quickly for her. She needed some time to think, and some time alone to actually calm down. "Jaejoong . . . could you—"

"Now, you better ice that area. Here," He barged in and instantly handed over chunk of frozen meat to her. Yoomi examined the piece of meat with puzzlement. "Don't underestimate the power of frozen meat. It's as good as ice. Plus, it's the only thing they've got."

"You mean, I'm using what we're going to eat afterwards . . . on my face?" she squeamishly quivered. The thought of her co-workers eating what she had placed on her cheek was horrifying for Yoomi, who was probably the most concerned with hygiene.

"It's wrapped in saran wrap for a reason," Jaejoong tried to ease her worries. "And don't worry about pimples."

"I wasn't worrying about that, but now that you have mentioned it . . ." she again had an image, this time, though, of pimples popping from her skin, oozing their pus.

"Just ice the goddamn thing on you, will you?" He rudely interceded her thinking by pressing the icy piece of meat on her cheek. Sometimes, he wished she could stop thinking and just did something. Wish-washy women. What a reason to sigh.

She slightly whimpered, "Ow, I can do it myself." She then extended her left hand and flapped it up and down, close to Jaejoong's face, to stop him from helping her.

Jaejoong chuckled at this sight, "Sure, sure, like you can do everything yourself. Just stop flailing your hand out like a penguin." If he had his camera with him, he would have certainly taken a picture of her reaction. Subsequently, he would probably playfully threaten to sell it to the tabloids. Wait, that was if she became famous enough for tabloids to want her. He smirked at this thought.

"Alright," she unwillingly agreed. "I'll let you ice it for me since you're so skilled." She attentively stressed on the word, so, to ensure that her sarcasm was known. She was suspicious of his abrupt kindness, but when she saw his deviated smile, she knew that he was still him, Kim Jaejoong. Wonderful, she thought in her mind. Just wonderful.

Seeing her hand now by her side, Jaejoong realized that Yoomi was becoming more and more obedient. Thus, he decided to reward her by tending her wound with more care and less force. "Better?" he pleasantly pondered. She shyly bobbed her head. "Hey, I've got to switch my hand. This one's getting sore," he cheerfully said. Again, Yoomi just nodded.

By the time, Yoomi was starting to become accustomed to Jaejoong's mildness, her manager bellowed, "There you are! I've been looking all over for you! Come! You've still got a fan-signing to complete!"

"R-right," Yoomi meekly remembered. She did not how she could have forgotten her job. Perhaps, gentleness was addicting that she had become somewhat irresponsible. Jaejoong had already tending her wound and once the coldness and the numbness began to fade away, she felt prepared to perfect her job. "Yeah, I can do this!" she slapped her cheeks on the way to the stage. As soon as she arrived on stage, there was applause. Now that was one of the reasons she loved her job.

Meanwhile, Jaejoong had trailed behind her and returned to his spot on stage. He had watched all of her movements, so he knew that she was dedicated to her work. Now that was why he was still her stylist. Then, he grinned.

Who knew that other people, such as her fans, were eyeing him?

"Ahh," one of the female fans heading towards Yoomi mumbled to her friend. "That guy with the sunglasses behind Yoomi is so hot!"

"Yeah, I know. He's so drool-worthy," the friend loudly whispered. "And remember how he came out and threatened that person?"

"Course, how could I forget?" the other continued. "Now that was hot and so romantic!"

Yoomi uneasily blushed and then turned her head to confirm her answer. Was that how others viewed Jaejoong? Who was Jaejoong then, to her?


	31. Chapter Thirty

**Chapter 30: The Innocent Couple's Reconciliation.**

Nayoung wondered how many times she had seen this image of a man leaving. Countless. Her father had abandoned the family when she was only five. She had seen his parting with a suitcase. She had seen her mother chasing after her father, screaming, "Am I not good enough? You're leaving me for that , aren't you?"

Nayoung, on the other hand, remembered asking, "Where are you going, Daddy?"

His dad finally stopped to turn and give her a pat on the head, "Daddy will be back. Now, you be a good girl."

Nayoung believed him. She listened to all of her mother's orders and requests. She studied diligently and even achieved an acceptance to Columbia University. Did he, however, come for her? No. She never saw him again. So, everything that she had done was useless; all of her triumphs were failures. Deciding to live a life of freedom, she rejected her offer to Columbia University and stayed in Seoul at Yonsei University. Ever since her decision, her mother never treated her the same way and instead, felt that she was leading a life of degradation and even imitating her father.

Nayoung disagreed. She began to date and to experiment with love. She, however, never felt a connection with any of her dates and they too left her, claiming that she was not the one for them. That was all before she fortuitously met Changmin at one of the university's library. That day the whole library was filled with students, who were anxious to study for their mid-terms. There happened to be an empty spot beside a boy who was listening to his I-touch with large head phones. That spot was occupied by his blue backpack and by his beige trench coat. "Is this spot taken?" Nayoung settled on asking. Changmin, however, did not hear her. She gently tapped his shoulder, and he frowned at her. He rudely demanded, "What?"

"Is this seat taken?" she politely repeated.

His frown instantly morphed into a chivalrous grin and his voice softened to murmur, "No, it's not. I'll just clear up the space here." She felt her heart skip. When he pulled the seat out for her to sit, she felt her cheeks grow warm. Was this the beginning of love? "T-thank you," she only managed to stutter.

"No problem," he casually responded before putting his head phone back on.

After their brief encounter, she began to think about him. She even asked her classmates if anyone knew about him, but they all shook their heads. Determined to discover his identity, she went to the same library every day at around the similar time that they had met. She even sat at the exact spot, hoping that he would come to take the seat beside her. He never came.

The next time she met him was approximately a year later. They were finally in the same class, Calculus. She had never loved Calculus, but now she did for he was there. Afraid to show her intentions too clearly, she always took a spot behind him. That way she could observe him without his knowing. She could overhear his conversations with his friend, who she soon learned to be Junsu. She learned that Junsu also detested Calculus, and only took interest in soccer. He had received a scholarship to Yonsei University based on his soccer abilities. Changmin was the opposite of Junsu. Changmin adored Calculus and majored in Mathematics. He hated sports, especially soccer.

Every day she would learn something new about the two. One day, she learned that Junsu had never had a girlfriend and that Changmin was not interested in dating at the moment. Changmin found girls bothersome and overbearing. He even claimed to have rejected the school's most popular girl and that was when Nayoung realized that she could never be his. By this time, her love for him had turned into an obsession. There was not a moment where he was not part of her thoughts. She wondered what it would be like for them to be on dates, to hold hands, and to talk to each other about anything. Daydreams, however, were not enough to satiate her love for him. She wanted him to be there for her and suddenly, she had an innovative plan.

She needed him to stay.

Nayoung had finally gone to the restaurant where Junsu worked and he was there, serving a customer. After he had taken the customer's order, she followed him and hollered, "Junsu, we need to talk."

He stared at her and coldly remarked, "What is there to say?"

"Is that how you want to end things?" she yelled so boisterously that all the customers were staring at them.

Junsu assessed the situation and then replied, "If you're willing to stay until after dinner service, then we can talk by then. I have work, you know."

"Alright," she sighed and took a seat at the waiting area. She was surprised by his sudden animosity. This was not the Junsu that she had known; he was willing to tolerate many things. Was he going to leave her too? Shaking her head, she wanted to shrug off all of her suspicions and worries, yet she couldn't. She already had the image ingrained in her mind, the image of desertion.

"Why are you crying?" he at last asked when all the customers left.

She looked up, still with tears in her eyes, "Are you going to leave me?"

"No, what makes you think that?" he quizzically mumbled.

He carefully and considerately wiped away her tears with his thumbs as she muttered, "You walked away after I told you not to hit Changmin."

"I was frustrated," he deeply suspired.

She couldn't understand how he didn't hesitate to stop, so she solemnly asked, "Did you know that I was running after you? You just drove away."

Hearing Nayoung's distressed voice, he stuttered to apologize, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't know that you were there. I w-was . . . just so . . . irritated." It was extremely difficult strenuous for Junsu to explain his sentiments. He truthfully had trouble confessing why he was acting this way. He seemed so unreasonable.

"Because I said not to hit him?" she wanted a clear answer for everything. She was tired of not knowing.

Junsu did not know where to begin, so he decided just to be truthful, and blurt out everything in his head. He started slowly, "It's because of a lot of things, Nayoung." Then, he quickened his pace, "It's like I . . .try and I try, but nothing is ever good enough for you. Nothing is working."

Seeing his agitated eyes, she felt sympathy and forgiveness. She settled on an action that could pacify the irritation and the negativity. So, she kissed him on the lips, and then murmured, "Would you say that nothing is working?"

"W-W-well, I . . ." Junsu was stunned, absolutely stunned. He never expected her to be the one that initiated a kiss. It should have been him.

Out of the blue, she requested, "Promise me something, Junsu."

"Yes?" he felt unsteady.

"Promise me that you'll never leave me," she clutched his hand with enough strength to cause him to shiver. "No matter what happens and no matter how wrong you or I may be, promise me that you'll never leave me." She stared with desolate eyes that were avid for love and mostly security.

Junsu, thus, instinctively responded, "I won't . . . leave you."

"Then, I love you," she bleakly enounced.

Junsu, taken by surprise, felt obliged to say, "I love you too." Why was responsibility attached to these words? Why did he feel burdened? Why wasn't he the one that said it to her first? He couldn't understand why this sentence seemed to haunt him. It was supposed to be a loving moment. His efforts had showed results, but why wasn't he feeling the satisfaction from such results? Love was supposed to be thoughtless. Now this phrase carried much thought, bearing the weight of a mountainous stone.

"That's good," she melodically declared. "I'm glad you feel this way too." He heard a robotic, rehearsed tone. Where was the love, he wanted to ask. He was, however, interrupted by her kiss. She kissed him passionately and he hoped that that meant she loved him.


	32. Chapter Thirty one

**Chapter 31: The Queen of Spontaneity Cooks for The Leader and The Mom Notices a Change.**

The way Yunho had always cooked his instant noodles was with a pot, a pair of chopsticks, noodles, and a stove. That was the way Jihyun would have liked for someone else to cook instant noodles. If she were the chef, she would simply use hot water, a pair of chopsticks, and of course, the noodles. When Yunho noticed what she was going to do, he only had one thought in his mind: how could someone be so lazy? She too noticed his expression. "Don't give me that ugly look," she complained as she poured the boiling water from the kettle. "I'm making express noodles."

"You seem to have an excuse for anything you do," he now leaned on the kitchen counter, impatient with her work.

She then grabbed a plate to cover the bowl of noodles, "More like a reason. So, how do you like your noodles?" She passed the bowl and a pair of chopsticks to him in an irritated fashion.

"Chewy, but slightly hard. And you?" he answered as he walked with the bowl to an empty seat at the dining table.

"Chewy, but soft," she grinned and proceeded to make her bowl of noodles.

Yunho, who did not want to be impolite by eating first, suggested, "Why don't we add some kimchi to this?"

"Yunho!" she abruptly yapped.

He almost tipped over the bowl because of her sudden shout. "Y-yeah?" he warily sputtered.

"You read my mind! I was just thinking about that and I was about to ask you where you stored your kimchi, but I thought it was weird to ask people where things were because . . ." she realized how awkward it was for her to recite all of her thoughts, so she halted.

Attempting to ease the situation, Yunho swiftly walked to the refrigerator, opened its door, and seized the container of kimchi. "Found it!" he then delivered the container to her. "How much do you think you'll eat?" He then took a fresh pair of chopsticks from the dishwasher, and clacked the chopsticks together twice to show his readiness.

She chuckled as she handed him a small bowl, "How about you keep putting the kimchi onto here and I'll tell you when to stop? We can share this together!" Her cheerfulness must be contagious, Yunho thought. He couldn't resist smiling back.

"Sure," he effortlessly acceded and began to follow her command. Thus, the kimchi slowly began to stack into a tiny, sloped mountain. "Is that enough?" he wondered. Even Jaejoong did not eat that much kimchi a night.

"No, no," she carefully eyed his movements. "Just a tad more. Okay . . . you can stop now!" The container, which initially was full, now became more than a quarter empty.

"A-are you going to eat that all by yourself?" he suspiciously asked.

As she made her way to the table with her hands full, one hand carrying a bowl, the other carrying the plate of kimchi, she bluntly refuted, "No. You're going to help me too!"

He took a seat and then shrugged, "I'm not that into kimchi to eat so much of it."

"Nonsense! Kimchi is a great delicacy," she sat beside him. "Speaking of kimchi, I've been dying to visit the Kimchi Museum at Seoul! AHH!"

She had shrilled like a fan girl would to her favourite celebrity and as a result, Yunho laughed. He laughed wholeheartedly at her reaction towards kimchi. Weird, funny girl, he thought. Even though he couldn't understand why or how she could be so obsessed with kimchi, he unpredictably wanted to support her obsession. "I could take you there this weekend," he, without any warning, offered.

"Really?" her eyes instantly twinkled with joy.

Noting her palpable expression of happiness, he steadily confirmed, "Really. Saturday afternoon sound good?"

"You're a good guy, Yunho!" she jumped up from her seat and cheered. "You just made my day! Thank you! Thank you!" Before Yunho could reply, she took both of his hands, even the one that was holding onto a pair of chopsticks, and shook them up and down and up and down. During this strenuous handshaking routine, she kept rambling, "Ahh! You're too awesome! You're even too cool for school! Ah, I just rhymed! I don't know what I'm saying anymore, but I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! You're too awesome, REALLY!" Just when Yunho thought that she had subsided to calmness, she leapt forward and gave him a hug. "Now, I don't normally give out hugs because well . . . I don't like them, but honestly, thank you!"

Yunho could only bashfully mumble as he reciprocated her hug, "You're welcome."

When Jaejoong returned home from a long day of work, he intuitively headed towards the kitchen. He needed a beer. He was stunned to find Yunho sitting at the kitchen table, just staring out into space. Yunho rarely wandered off into dreamland. "Yunho," Jaejoong hailed. There was no response. So, Jaejoong attempted another try with a louder voice, "Yunho!" Again, Yunho was stationary, unwary of anyone's presence. Now fully querulous, Jaejoong squawked, "JUNG YUNHO!"

Slowly, but surely, Yunho answered, "Y-yeah?"

"How long have you been here for?" Jaejoong sternly interrogated as he opened the fridge for his chilled beer.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "I didn't really keep track of time."

"Well," Jaejoong now opened his can of beer with a cracking sound. "Something is fishy with you."

Yunho shrugged, "No, there's nothing wrong."

While Jaejoong shook his head, he glimpsed at the counter and noticed two empty bowls beside the sink. Then, he knew what was occurring. "Say," he decided to test out his theory. "Was someone here tonight?"

"Y-yeah," Yunho diffidently said.

"Could that person happen to be Jihyun, I mean, Lee Jihyun?" Jaejoong deviously asked. He loved making circumstances uncomfortable for the other.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"So, what did you guys do?" Jaejoong was determined to find out the reason for Yunho's peculiar behaviour.

Yunho murmured, "Nothing much. Just ate some stuff and ugh, I agreed to take her to the Kimchi Museum."

"Interesting," Jaejoong chuckled. "So, I take it that your relationship with her is going well."

"W-what, w-w-what r-r-relationship?" Yunho nervously quivered.

Jaejoong continued to laugh, "Chill, man. Relationship can mean many things. I mean, friendship is a type of relationship. Now, I suppose you were thinking it as going beyond friendship?"

Yunho immediately tensed and shuddered, "N-no! T-That wasn't what I was going for!"

"So you like her, don't you?" Jaejoong artfully smirked. Refusing to make eye contact with Jaejoong, Yunho remained silent. He was unsure of what to say and what to think. The words that kept echoing in his mind were hers. They were of her chant of "I love you, I love you". It was a sentence that she spoke of too casually, yet he thought of too seriously.

Confusion was now the epitome of Yunho's mind. He did not know what he was feeling. Was this love then or was this friendship? He hadn't known Jihyun for years so he could not assess her completely. He wasn't the sort to fall in love easily. Love at first sight never happened to him, except maybe that actress. He needed reasons to support his love for someone and he couldn't seem to clearly announce that he loved Jihyun for love came with responsibility.

There was one thing he was sure of: his surging anxiety. To make matters worse, Jaejoong pinpointed, "Yunho . . . are you getting a fever?"

"What do you think?" Yunho angrily grumbled and stormed upstairs to his room.

Jaejoong right away hollered, "I THINK YOU LIKE HER! I THINK YOU LIKE HER A LOT!"


End file.
